


Vox Nihili, Vox Populi

by Huhsuabee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Don't expect expert writing, Hurt, I tagged Defenders but it's only because Daredevil is there, I've seen IW... my tears haven't dried, Mystery, Peter's in way over his head, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Some characters will meet before their canon interaction, Strange is a great temporary dad, Stressed Peter, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-08-01 23:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16294415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huhsuabee/pseuds/Huhsuabee
Summary: One day Peter starts to notice something off about some of the Avengers... so he decides to do a little digging. But he isn't prepared for what he uncovers.--“Mr. Stark, if we could just talk…” he tried.“Wearetalking.”Peter held up his hands as the suit began to approach. “No, NO…! I mean, in person… we could sort this out, or―”“Okay, fine.” Then the helmet’s face plate started to pull back, revealing the self-made billionaire. Peter’s face went pale. Tony took another step forward, causing the teen to take a hesitant step back. “We’re talking.” Raising both arms and charging up his blasters, Stark flashed a bitter smile. “Hi.”





	1. Chapter 1

_The Avengers… Self-righteous, self-appointed “heroes of the earth.”_

_Feh… What a joke._

_Their foundation is fragile. They fight amongst themselves yet claim to know what’s best for this world._

_They do not know themselves. They will never truly know what they desire._

_It’s only a matter of time before they tear each other apart…._

-

-

“Happy, hey!” Peter shouted as he ran up to the car, hopping inside and throwing his bag to the floor. Popping on his seatbelt, he shut the door and then looked expectantly to the rearview mirror where Happy’s exhaustion-riddled face was reflected. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“I pick you up all the time,” the disgruntled man grumbled, pulling the car away from the school’s sidewalk.

“Yeah, I know,” the teen says with a nod, looking out of the window as the car started down the road. He lets out a quiet sigh through his nose.

It was only a few months ago when Tony had offered him a spot on the Avengers, which he had politely declined. Life after that had continued as usual. School was alright. If it wasn’t for Ned though, he probably would’ve pulled his hair out ages ago. Crime was simple… for what it was― no big baddies attempting to gain access to nuclear codes or trying to poison the water supply at least.

And May, well… where to even start? Needless to say, it was difficult for her to accept the whole situation. Curfew became a must. Texting was almost constant, even for the times he was in the house, which he understood. Hard to be certain your nephew was home when he had secretly been a superhero for the good part of a year. It certainly took a lot of persuasion on Tony’s part for her to alleviate a lot of her restrictions.

Peter didn’t know how exactly to talk to her now. It was one thing when it was just Ned, or Tony Stark… but having his aunt know? The first few days were the weirdest and the quietest, for obvious reasons. Recently they’ve been opening up about it more, allowing May to voice her concerns. While it made him feel a little better that she was being more open to the idea, he still couldn’t shake the thought that she’s now a potential target.

Being Spider-Man sure had its perks, but…

“Kid. Hey,” Happy’s voice broke the silence. “We’re here.”

“Wh-what?” Peter blinked, leaning against the window to get a glimpse outside. That didn’t make an sense. “Why are we at the new Avengers facility?”

“Because Tony’s here and he wants to talk to you… or something,” came the answer. Happy turned off the car, taking out the keys before opening the door and hopping out.

“Oh.” The boy moved his mouth, unbuckling his seatbelt. Then, as Happy shut the door, he called, “Wait, do I need my bag??”

As soon as the man stepped away from the vehicle to wait for Peter, he responded with a muffled “What?” and then pulled the door open again, dipping his head back inside. “What??” he asked again, tone exasperated.

Peter worked his mouth a little but no sound came out. He blinked, keeping his eyes on the man, then pointed down to the floor. Softer, he started, “I, um― Do I need my bag?”

“…Do you NEED it?”

“Not… really, no―”

The bodyguard gestured quickly with a twirl of his hand, indicating that they should go, then closed the door as he took a step back. Moments later, Peter emerged from the car, eyes travelling up the side of the building before him. He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face; it was still just as amazing as it had been when he first got here. Pressing his door shut, he stepped around the back of the vehicle, falling into step beside Happy as they approached the entrance to the facility.

Upon entering, they were bombarded with chilly air-conditioning and chattering people passing them by. Out of the corner of his eye, Happy nodded and then waved to a couple of people he didn’t recognize, and then gestured towards the stairs. “Come on,” the man mumbled, heading towards them. Peter started after him, only briefly glancing over his shoulder to spot the case where his new suit had been. Part of him still wondered about that conference thing…

As they ascended, a voice could be heard from above, reverberating off the glass and down the stairs. “Yeah. No, I already did that.” A pause. “Okaaay… and he’s doing _what_ again?”

Peter let out a quiet gasp when they reached the top. While Happy continued on, he had to stop a few times. The floor didn’t look much different from the one below it, save for several isolated glass rooms that looked like little laboratories or offices, but the size of the hallway alone made him feel like he was walking through the secret inner workings of some high tech airport or something, if the unnecessarily large glass windows and the really expensive jets outside were anything to go by. Everything just screamed Stark.

A few doors down Happy came to a halt, waiting quietly for Peter to catch up. The teen offered an apologetic look when he realized what was happening, jogging up to him. The bodyguard nodded towards the room to his immediate left, the door to it wide open. The voice they heard spoke again, and Peter practically beamed upon seeing the familiar frame of Tony Stark pacing inside.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, see, WHY would I do that?”

Peter tentatively took a step inside, and he was greeted by carpet of all things beneath his feet. From what he could tell, the room appeared to be a place for meetings to be held but it was smaller than he was expecting. Probably a space for this particular wing of the building to congregate. As he carried on meandering into the room, Stark went on talking, possibly to someone at SHIELD. A minute or two passed before he finally acknowledged the teen’s presence. Something in his eyes seemed to light up behind his shades, but Peter didn’t catch it, too busy looking out of one of the windows to the floor below. At some point Tony’s tone changed, which caught his attention, looking back up at the man with a wide-eyed expression.

“Mhm. Yeah, could you― Okay. Wait. Ahp―” Tony held up a finger, though the other line couldn’t see the gesture. “―one thing at a time. I’m gonna let you finish, just give me a― No.” He waved his finger side to side. “Give me a sec.”

With his other hand, he tapped the side of his ear piece, pointing at Peter now. Tony then mouthed something the teen couldn’t quite make out and, despite the fact that he muted the call, he did the same thing again, only this time pointing at Peter and doing a thumbs up. When the boy nodded with a smile, Tony mimicked the motion for a bit and then unmuted the call. “Okay, I’m back,” he said, stepping to the side. “And now I’m gonna have to let you go.”

For a moment Peter looked a bit alarmed but then immediately shook it off upon realizing that the other was referring to the call. He quietly stepped over to a chair, resting a hand on the back of it, staring down at it while Tony wrapped things up.

“Something came up. Yeah, I know it’s important…” His voice got lower as he turned away a little. “I’ll get right on it― I always do.” After a pause and a long sigh, he added, “Okay, then I’ll make sure Pepper reminds me.” He nods once. “Okay, you do that. Yeah, okay, bye.” Hitting the side of his ear piece with a roll of his eyes, he then turned on his heel to face Peter again. Clearing his throat, he smiled a little. “Hey, Spiderling. Long time, no see, huh?”

The teen blinked and, upon realizing he was being spoken to, he hesitantly pointed to the door. “Yeah, uh, hi, Mr. Stark…” He then pointed to Tony. “Was that…? Um, I can come back some other time if you’re busy―” Tony furrowed his eyebrows at that.

The billionaire waved dismissive hand. “No, no, no, wouldn’t dream of it. That conversation was a _nightmare_ , the whole quid pro quo and all that entails… I’ll get back to it later.” He shook his head once. “Besides,” he started walking over to Peter, reaching out an arm, “I already asked Happy to bring you here…” As he headed for the door, he waved for the other to follow. The two started to walk further down the hallway, Happy tailing them from a few feet away. Stark pat the boy’s back. “So what’s happening in the world of _Spider-Man_ …?”

Peter’s eyes darted a bit. “…Not much.”

“‘Not much’…” Tony nodded slowly. “See, I’d be inclined to believe that if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve gone dark over the past few months…” He sped up, stepping a little in front of Peter, both of them coming to a stop. He looked down over the rim of his glasses, giving the other a once-over. “What’s going on? Is it Aunt May?” Peter shook his head.

“No, it’s not. I―”

“You know, I know a great shawarma joint we could go to if…”

Peter made a face at the implication. “No… No! I’m… she’s… we’re good. We’re fine.”

“Mm.” Tony turned, resuming his stride. After a moment, Peter followed suit. “Your aunt ever tell you you suck at lying…?”

“She might’ve… mentioned it…”

Tony raised a hand and then dropped it. “Kid, I’m only asking because I’m trying to keep an eye on your progress but I can’t _do_ that when you don’t keep in touch, sooo… I mean, you’re not even using the AI I gave you…”

More silence passed between them with only the sound of their footsteps on the sleek floor breaking it up. Glancing down at the brunette, he frowned at the helpless expression on the kid’s face. He wasn’t sure if mentioning the issue with May was a good idea but, even with all the intelligence in the world, sometimes he had a habit of saying things he shouldn’t. If only he knew what was going on in the other’s head, otherwise he could somehow figure out a way to help him out.

“Tell you what,” he spoke up suddenly, seeming to startle Peter from his own stupor. “I’m gonna show you some new gear I’ve been working on for you―”

“F-for… for me?” Peter wondered, eyes darting a bit with uncertainty.

Tony nodded, pressing his lips together. “―yep, and then we’re going to have Happy drive us somewhere for lunch,” then softer, he mumbled, “because _I_ haven’t eaten, and I’m almost certain _you_ haven’t either…”

“Yeah… Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to those who saw this earlier but didn't see any writing. I'm still getting used to the AO3 format.
> 
> In any case I hope you enjoy what I've written so far.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter let out a sigh as he stood outside of the apartment, hand tapping the key he held in the lock. The “lunch break” he and Tony had lasted a few hours longer than he had planned… and he had given May a heads up about it, but it was hard to pay attention to the world around you when your hero was talking to you so nonchalantly. He still couldn’t get over that.

It was currently eight-thirty, which was pushing it but it wasn’t super late exactly. Still his ears were a bit red with shame. He swallowed hard, pushing the door slowly, the wood creaking as he did despite his fingers pressing gingerly against it. He bit his lip when he spotted his aunt sitting on the couch reading something, glasses slowly falling down her nose. He cleared his throat but she didn’t look up, only turning to the next page in her book.

“H… hey, May…” he called out carefully, stepping inside and sliding his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor, placing his keys on the counter and shutting the door behind him. He stood still for a moment, glancing down at his shoes. Quietly slipping them off, he stepped further inside, shuffling across the floor over to the living room. He looked from her to the couch, and then back again. When she didn’t move, he chose to sit down, being extra careful not to disturb her. His hands fell onto his thighs, which he brushed back and forth along his pants to somehow help straighten out his nerves. “Hi…” he greeted again.

“Why are you home so late…?” she asked simply.

He blinked. Didn’t she get the― “I… I texted you…”

“Yes, you did,” she said with a nod, lifting her chin for a moment but not quite looking up. She licked her finger and turned another page. Her eyes stopped flickering along the paper and she finally glanced up at him, her brow knitting together. She slowly closed the book, leaving her finger in it as a placeholder for a second.

Peter went to shrug but stopped in the middle of the motion. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he admitted. “M-Mr. Stark and I were talking and I just… lost track of time.”

May shook her head slowly. Stark. She hit the book against her legs. “Yeah, but if you’re going to stay out this late, I need a _call_ every now and again…” This was what, the third time? Leaning back, she looked down at the couch, fumbling a bit until she found a thin blue bookmark, which she slipped in between the book’s pages, setting the book down on the floor and turning to face Peter head-on. A small sigh escaped her nose.

“Look, I know I haven’t been easy on you…” She waved a hand about. “What, with the crime fighting, and school… curfew…” She leaned forward, making a silly face when she spoke again, softer, “Me nagging you all day…” Peter smiled briefly and she pulled back, her eyes falling. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to…” Her brow twitched. “…save the world, or whatever else it is you do… on top of everything else.” Her face fell, almost looking guilty about what she was saying. She lifted an arm, letting it drop when she was done speaking. “But I’m going to need more than a text to know that my kid’s not actually off fighting some… nutjob.” May watched as Peter’s eyes grew wide before he ducked his head a little. She followed, tilting her head so she could catch his eyes. “I’m not doing any of this to hurt you, Peter… You know that, right?” 

Peter’s brown eyes slowly met hers and, when he saw the concern laced in her expression, the guilt started to tear at his chest. He went to speak, but found he couldn’t right away. All he could manage was a nod. May, at seeing this, lifted up a hand to brush the side of his cheek. 

“Hey, stop looking like that,” she said. “I’m not punishing you.” 

The teen nodded, his hand shooting up to grab his aunt’s hand, holding the side of it tight. He looked down at them, frowning. “Y-yeah,” he choked out, shaking her hand just slightly. “I… I know.” He hesitantly rested his other hand on hers. “I know, Aunt May, I just―” He turned his head away for a second, looking back up at her with wide eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know how to talk to you…” he admitted softly, bowing his head. “…about _any_ of this…” For a minute they were stuck in silence, his eyes flickering a bit as he was lost in thought. May could only be patient, choosing to use her other hand to brush some of the hair out of his face. The gentle gesture seemed to make his face crumple. “I-I _wanted_ to tell you, I…” 

“Woah, woah… hey…” she started, shushing him. She then tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, leaning in closer and placing her hand on his shoulder. “I know you did… I know why you _couldn’t_ ― It’s… it’s crazy!” She laughed a little, causing Peter to smile again. “So enough with the waterworks, okay?” She tapped the side of a finger under his chin. “Alright?” When she received a nod in response, she beamed with satisfaction. A second later she was on her feet. “Now, who’s hungry?” 

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line. “Um… actually…”

“You’re kidding me,” she muttered, her shoulders falling. May let out a groan, pushing her glasses up her face as she headed for the kitchen. She pointed to him once she passed the fridge. “You see, _that’s_ something you could’ve told me,” she chuckled.

\--

“Hey, Rhodes,” Tony greeted as his friend stepped into the lab, the billionaire refusing to look up from what he was working on.

The other glanced around at the boxes that lay scattered across the floor, some tools and gadgets hanging out precariously. He noted a few in the back that were stacked and closed up neatly, likely Pepper’s doing. He directed a hand at the mess. “Aren’t you supposed to be moving your stuff outta here?” 

“What, are you saying it’s a crime to work here while I do that?” When Tony got a “no” in reply, he nodded once. “Okay, then I don’t see the problem.”

Rhodey sighed, smiling and shaking his head. “Anyway… I got something for ya,” he said, waving a small package in the air.

Tony waved a hand in the direction of one of his work tables. “Just… put it down somewhere… I’ll get to it.” 

“Yeah,” Rhodey chuckled. “ _Eventually_.” He walked over to Tony, holding up the bundle for a moment. He tapped his fingers on it a few times, indicating his piqued curiosity. “Sorry, but… this came straight from Cap. Said it couldn’t wait.” 

“Messenger falcon would’ve worked just― as― well…” the genius hummed absentmindedly, eyes flickering up and down between his notes and the small gadget in front of him. 

Rhodey scrunched up his face in amusement. “You’re not listening, are you?” 

“I thought you knew me better than that,” Tony replied, exchanging tools and touching up something, small sparks flying. 

After a pause in the other’s work, Rhodey tossed the parcel onto the table, causing Stark, who looked a bit affronted, to pull back. “Take a break… it’s late. You need it.” Scanning the little machine in front of his friend, he frowned in confusion. “What’re you working on, anyway?” 

“Well,” Tony started sourly, setting down one of his thin tools on the table with a huff. “I _was_ working on something for the kid but…” Lifting his protective goggles off his face, he grabbed the package, giving Rhodey a look before examining it. “…I guess not― Wwwhat did you say this is?” 

“From Cap.” Then, a bit quieter, he added, “It’s already been scanned.” 

Frowning, Tony started to tear the package open. Reaching inside, he pulled out a USB. He examined it with disbelief, turning it over in his hand. “And you’re telling me this is from… Cap?” 

“Oh, you’ve got jokes.” 

Tony did nothing to hide the shit-eating grin. “Glad you think so.” Dropping it carelessly on the table, he said, “I’m not gonna look at it right now, but you’ll be the first to know if I find anything.” When his friend went to object, he slid on his goggles and pointed at Rhodey, grabbing his tools again. “First to know.”

-

Later that night, or rather early in the morning, Tony was sitting at his computer. He was watching the contents on the USB drive, his eyes wide, suspicion crawling all over his skin.

“That’s… odd,” he remarked after about the twentieth playthrough. He leaned back in his chair, pressing the side of his hand under his nose. He gestured to the screen, scowling. “Fri, am I seriously seeing this…?”

“Affirmative,” came the feminine voice of his AI. 

“See, that…” He tapped a finger on his chin. That couldn’t be right. “Where did Cap manage to get this footage from?” he pondered. “This is in MY tower, right…?” Though the AI did not respond, he knew the answer already. Something about this rubbed him the wrong way. Pushing his chair back, he quickly got to his feet. As he started to move, he spoke, “Friday, track the source of that footage. Search for any bugs in the system. And check to make sure no one else has been here over the past month.” He grabbed his jacket on the way out. 

“I’m gonna pay someone a visit.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my memory of Civil War is a bit fuzzy... but also I'm going off the basis that Ragnarok hasn't happened yet... Just assume that Bruce isn't gone for this story.

Peter groaned, pressing both hands to his face. “Everything’s been awkward, man. The whole thing with Mr. Stark? Ugh, I don’t know. I haven’t been able to put two complete sentences together with him recently.” He let his hands fall to instead grab onto his backpack straps. “And just being around the guy, it’s… it’s weirding May out.” He bit his lip. “Which stresses  _ me _ out…” He scrunched up his brow. “It’s like… I don’t know how to  _ talk _ to May, but I’ve  _ always _ been able to talk to her!” He thought for a second. “ _ Almost _ always,” he corrected. “But this… this is different.”

Ned nods. “Mmyeah, it makes sense though.” The DO NOT CROSS sign flashed red, making them to come to a halt. When Peter stops walking to look at him, he lets out a short breath. “Dude, there’s no right way to  _ go _ about this!” he exclaimed, causing a few people in front look back at them. The sign flashed white and they started walking again. “You can’t just go… ‘Hey, May, so I’m Spide―’” Before Peter could say anything, he let out a shout of frustration. “Gah, I’m sorry!” Peter chuckled when the other boy got quieter. “‘I’m Spider-Man, remember? …So curfew’s really not an option for me’… because  _ then _ she might take that as an excuse.”

“H… excuse? Whaaat are you talking about?” Peter laughed, looking both perplexed and amused.

“I dunno,” Ned shrugged. “All I know is I don’t envy you…” He chuckled softly.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “Me neither.”

\--

“Boss, I have finished running diagnostics.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Alright, you better have some good news.”

“The source of the video originated from within Stark Tower. No issues have been detected within the system… I have taken the liberty to run multiple scans to be certain. And only those with access have visited your office.”

Tony shook his head, muttering to himself. A few moments passed and Friday chimed in again.

“You will soon be arriving at your destination.”

“Good. Someone better have some scotch.”

“That is not good for your health, especially this early in the morning.”

Tony clicked his tongue as he prepared for landing. “Lighten up, Fri. That’s the best part.” As an afterthought, he whispered, “And if I’m being honest… I’m probably gonna need it.”

\--

Location: Hidden Base

\--

“Tony…” Steve breathed, smiling wide as his friend landed and stepped out of his suit. He held out his arms, embracing the brunette in a big warm hug. Tony merely pat the other’s arm, turning his head to the side and mumbling a “yeah, good to see you too.” When they pulled back, Steve cleared his throat then nodded towards the door behind them. “Come on, the others are inside.”

Upon walking inside, they were greeted by the sight of a small complex. Natasha and Bruce were there― though he understood why Clint wasn’t present, Tony half-expected Sam to be here as well. Choosing not to ask, he quietly stepped inside.

“Wow. Didn’t expect a surprise visit,” Natasha remarked, walking up to them. She then smirked, shaking her head slightly. “I’m joking.”

“You joke?” Tony chuckled, Natasha humming in response. Then, clapping his hands together, he said, “ _ Please _ tell me you have drinks…”

“That we do,” Natasha replied, lifting her own drink to prove it. The man didn’t waste a second to take her up on that offer, strolling past her to head towards the small bar that they had, completely ignoring Steve reaching out in his direction. Natasha simply pat his arm in reassurance.

“Hey, big guy,” Tony greeted Bruce, who was sitting down in a chair writing something, with a pat on the shoulder.

“Hey― oh!” The other looked up from his notes, mouth slightly agape in confusion. He glanced from Tony to Steve and back again. “Uh… hi― h-hello.” He blinked slowly, turning a bit in his chair to get a better look. “Wait, how… You’re actually here right now.”

“Yes, I thought we established that…” Tony said as he poured some scotch into a cup, exclaiming in delight at his full glass. Taking a swig of the glass, he sauntered over to the front of the room again, looking down at his drink.  “So I checked out what you sent me, Rogers…”

Steve blinked, looking up at the mention of his name. “And?”

Tony’s eyes flickered, meeting the other’s with a skeptical look. “I think we should go over it… ‘cause I’m not quite sure… what I’m supposed to be seeing.”

“Alright,” Steve replied, crossing his arms, frowning at the other’s words.

Without skipping a beat, Natasha went over to fetch a laptop that was resting on a table nearby. Steve and Tony got a little closer so they could get a better view of the computer. Bruce rose from his chair, placing his notes down in it carefully, still holding the pen in between his fingers. He leaned against the side of the chair, tapping the pen on his other fingers. Typing a few things on the laptop, Natasha eventually pulled up the video, turning the computer so the rest of them could see.

Bruce hesitantly pointed at the computer as Natasha pressed play before going to sit down. “Wh… what is this?” he wondered, looking back at Tony and Steve. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s a video… that Cap sent,” the billionaire answered firmly, glancing briefly at Steve, who straightened up when he felt the other’s gaze. “From my place,  _ somehow _ .”

Bruce lowered his head a little, a bit put off by the answer. “Oh…”

Almost as soon as a figure was on screen, Stark rushed forward and paused the video. Natasha is heard letting out a breath of amusement.

Bruce made a face at this. “ _ O-kay…? _ ”

“You know what? Tell me where you got this,” Tony demanded, hitting the computer’s board with his index finger. “Tell me… because I refuse to believe this is real.”

Steve stepped forward, gasping softly in disbelief. “Tony, you’ve seen it… It’s right there. Clear as day.” He shook his head, gesturing to the screen with his hand. “No one knows how to hack your system, so how could that be fake?”

Fake? What were they talking about? “Guys, could we just watch the video…?” Bruce tried to interrupt, but was swiftly cut off by Stark taking a step in front of him. “Okay…”

“Yeah, that’s another thing…” Tony cocked his head, glaring suspiciously at his friend. “How did you manage to get a hold of that anyway?”

The blonde tilted his head slightly, dropping his arm. He sighed. “Just because we have a disagreement doesn’t mean we don’t keep an eye on you…” When the brunette looked away, he continued, “You’re still our friend.”

He bowed his head, looking to the monitor. “Besides, we’ve been noticing some weird stuff’s been happening… Somehow people have been tracking us down faster and faster.” Tony’s eyes widened at those words. Steve went on. “We’ve been attacked several times― luckily… no one’s been hurt. Now, the only people we’re certain are aware of our location are you, and SHIELD.” He tore his gaze away from the screen to look his friend in the eye. “We knew you wouldn’t give us away, so Fury was our next shot.” He grimaced. “He’s been doubling down on security measures a lot now.”

“No wonder he’s been a pain in my ass recently…” Stark muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

Steve lifted his chin a bit, unsure of what to say to that. Furrowing his brow, he stepped forward to press play. “We’ve been doing a little reconnaissance, trying to figure out who’s messing with us… and how.” He unpaused the footage. “Avengers Tower was just the first place we found something suspicious.”

The scene started to play out. In the view of the camera strolled someone who looked a bit wary about being there. They soon spotted Tony’s computer, walking over to it and bending over the desk, typing away at something they couldn’t quite make out. Off to the side, Bruce mumbled something, his eyes now focusing on the floor. The video continued, the figure pulling back from the desk and stumbling over a few boxes as they did, immediately going to straighten them out, but not before picking up a few pieces that had fallen out in order to inspect them closer. Placing the last box that had fallen back, they examined what Tony recognized as a broken Arc Reactor which he kept around for spare parts. The person appeared to beam, looking at the piece in awe. Steve audibly clicked his tongue and tapped his foot as he watched them pocket it.

Tony shook his head. “But that’s…  _ Peter _ ,” he pointed out after a little bit more of the footage played. He watched on as the figure in the video glanced around the room nervously. He waved a hand at the screen, spreading his fingers. “Tell me I’m not the only one seeing this.”

“No,” Steve admitted, his voice full of disappointment. He rested his hands on his hips, switching legs as he stared at the footage with a frown. “No, you’re not.”

The billionaire bowed his head but kept his eyes fixed on the monitor. A minute of silence passed as they all watched the young man scavenge through a few boxes and type something else on the computer. Tony tapped the side of his finger against his lips, then pointed to the screen. “I mean, that could be anybody…” he dismissed.

Then as the video drew to a close, the figure clearly pulled themselves up onto a wall with a web and crawled out of view of the camera. As the recording stopped again, this time as it reached the end, the group remained still.

“Yeah, because most kids go around shooting webs out of their  _ hands _ …” Bruce eventually mumbled, glancing down at the pen he was fumbling with in his hands.

“They could!” He pointed to Bruce with a finger. “Did you know he dumpster-dove for his gadgets?”

Steve cut in, “Tony…”

The genius fanned his hands out from his chest. “I’m telling you, someone else could just as easily―”

“Tony!” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes briefly, his expression solemn. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but Stark’s refusal to accept the facts was a bit much. “You probably had Friday scan it… It’s him. You know that.”

“Do I?” the other asked incredulously. “The Peter Parker  _ I _ know is a smart kid. He would NEVER do that… not to me.” He poked his pointer finger in his chest. “He looks up to me― why, I don’t know… I’ll never know, but he does.” His eyes fell for a moment, refocusing back on the Captain’s own blue ones. Tony let out a sigh through his nose. A second later he raised his arms, dropping them as soon as he did. “Just… Why would  _ he _ steal from  _ me _ ?” he asked to no one in particular, his voice betraying the sadness he felt. He could feel his hands starting to shake. None of this made sense. How could it? He pointed to the ground for emphasis as if that would somehow help. “That’s… what I don’t get.”

“Maybe… maybe that’s the problem,” Bruce suddenly chimed in. All eyes immediately locked on him, under which he fidgeted uncomfortably. Deciding to focus solely on Stark, he raised a hand a little. “I’m not trying to push any buttons here, Tony, but you… you have a habit of liking… when people compliment you,” Bruce pointed out. He squinted slightly. “I dunno, maybe the kid saw that early on, decided to get close to you, and now… he’s using that trust you’ve built against you.” His eyes widened as soon as he saw Tony’s grim expression, causing him to quickly wave his hands back and forth. “N… now, I’m not trying to say the kid’s  _ bad _ or anything, because we don’t know for sure―” He chose to ignore Steve’s disconcerted gaze. “―I mean, this is worst-case scenario, guys…” He placed a hand on his own chest. “I-I don’t  _ want _ this to happen, it’s just… you know…” He let his hand fall, tapping the pen he was still holding against the side of it. “I’m just sayin’, you said so yourself… He’s a smart kid.” He shrugged, averting his eyes. “Now he’s a smart kid with your access codes.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know police lingo so don't judge me too hard if it's a bit off.

Peter sat on the bleachers beneath the one of the basketball hoops, hunched over, his arms resting across his legs. He watched on as the kids on the court shouted and ran, tossing dodgeballs at one another, occasionally a few of them getting tagged out. Almost as soon as the game started, Flash started trying to tag him out, several times choosing to strike Peter again despite the fact that he was already out, much to the irritation of the teacher. Ned, who lasted much longer, eventually came over, patting his knee before heading out to get a drink of water from the fountain.

A while ago his friend had asked him why he didn’t use his powers to win at sports… at least to humiliate Flash, and Peter had completely dismissed the idea. “If I did that, I wouldn’t be any better than he is.”

When the game began to wind down, the teacher called for the students to split up into individual activities. Ned and Peter chose to look busy by tossing a ball back and forth, something they often did to pass the time until the bell rang.

“You see the new Star Wars movie?” Ned beamed.

“No,” Peter muttered. “Wait, I thought it wasn’t out in theaters yet…”

His friend shook his head. “Well, no, it’s not.” His smile grew wider as he bounced the ball over to Peter. “But the trailer is… Dude, you gotta see it.”

“Okay.” The other nodded with a smile, grabbing the ball and then tossing it back over.

“Hey, um…” Ned rolled the ball in his hands. “You ever think that you and Mr. Stark are like… Anakin and Obi-Wan Kenobi…?”

Peter’s brow crinkled. “No?” he laughed, leaning his head back a little. “I’m not― Where did you get that idea?”

“No, no, think about it! You’re carving your own path, going through the whole ‘superhero existential crisis’―”

“The WHAT?”

“―it’s totally similar!” He gestured to his friend, then tossed the ball back.

“How??” Peter caught the ball, bouncing it a few times on the floor. He chuckled, ducking his head a bit. “Dude, you’re not making _any_ sense.” He directed a hand back towards Ned. “Wh… when was the last time you even _saw_ those movies?”

Ned shrugged, fumbling the ball when Peter bounced it back at him. He watched it roll away, then turned to face his friend again. “I dunno, but that just tells me we got a potential binge party coming up.”

\--

“Your heart rate has increased to dangerous levels,” Friday announced to Tony, the trees below trembling as the Iron Man suit whizzed by. “Would you like for me to direct you to the nearest hospital?”

“No. I’m fine.” He worked his jaw a bit, adding, “Just… keep on course.”

“Shall I call Ms. Potts?”

“No,” he snapped bitingly. He was headed back anyway. Besides, telling her… it was out of the question.

“…Are you alright?”

Irritation bubbled in his stomach. “ _No_ , actually. I’m not. Know why?” Squinting, he growled, “‘Cause I’m trying my damn hardest _not_ to think about the kid potentially robbing me blind… but you know…?” He tilted his head a little, pressing his lips together tight. “You’re kind of doing the opposite… of helping, right now.”

“Understood.”

He would never do that. _Peter_ would never do that… but the video evidence was in his face. What Banner said made sense for the most part, but not exactly. They knew the kid. Maybe he was just tinkering some new gadgets using some of his old parts and didn’t tell him… That would explain why he’s been silent over the past month or two, certainly more wary to talk. But why be on his computer? There had to be some explanation. Just thinking about it gave him a headache.

Tony blinked, letting out a sharp huff, exasperated. “…Friday,” he rasped. He swallowed, then grumbled, “Just stop asking… twenty questions―” He briefly scanned the ground as it changed to water. “―Are we getting close yet?”

“Twenty miles.”

\--

A few days passed without much transpiring. It was that time of the year where there was a lull in the curriculum, which Peter was really thankful for, and that allowed him to focus more on his thoughts.

Night time, six o’ seven.

Over the peak of a tall building, Spider-Man poked his head out from the shadows, the light of the city below illuminating his mask and shoulders. He breathed slowly, the chill of the air causing his breath to appear for a moment, ghosting around his face. He shivered, springing over to the edge of the roof and leaning over it to examine the bustling city below. The blaring sounds of honking cars and police sirens rang in his ears.

“I wonder what people would think if I started showing up with a hat and scarf…” he hummed to himself. Holding out an arm, he shot a line over to the adjacent building. Swinging across the street, he scanned the ground below. “Okay, Juniper Valley… what’s happening?”

“I lost my balloooooon!!” a squeaky voice abruptly shouted to the heavens.

Confused for a moment, he looked around a bit before spotting a blue balloon floating past him. Shooting another web to the nearest building, he swung by, grabbing a hold of the balloon’s string. “Huh.” He glanced up at the blue orb as he descended. “Okay.”

Landing on the ground with a grunt, he was quick to find a sobbing little girl nearby with who looked to be her father. They were standing outside of a deli, the dad bent down rubbing her back and reassuring her that he would get another, the little girl furiously rubbing her eyes. The two of them were then startled to find Spider-Man standing before them, holding out the very same balloon they lost.

“I think you dropped this, or I guess… it dropped you…?”

“My balloon…” she gasped quietly, eyes widening.

He smiled under his mask, getting down on his knees to meet the girl’s eye level. “Hold out your wrist for me, okay?” The girl sniffled, nodding and slowly offering her arm out. Spidey carefully wrapped the string around her wrist, tying it off with a knot. Leaning back, he said, “Try not to lose it this time, alright?”

The girl giggled, bouncing on her toes. “Okay!” And with a “thank you” from her father, he gave them two thumbs up before leaving the scene. “Thank you, Spideyman!” he heard the little girl shout after him.

“H’okay,” he breathed, grabbing onto a nearby pole and springing off of it, latching onto another building, this time running along the side of it. “I think there’s a chase going on a few blocks away…” he murmured to himself, shooting two webs out and slingshotting himself forward. “I can probably make it.”

-

“10-60 I,” an officer all but shouted into their radio, their sirens blaring. The car in front of them was veering into oncoming traffic. “Dispatch, we’ve got a red Mazda, eastbound on 75th St. Suspect―” Static. “―possible GTA in progress. Requesting a call for pursuit. We need some units on the ground!” Right above them, a figure swung past.

“Copy. We are calling in for pursuit.”

Inside the car, one of the passengers glanced over his shoulder. Spotting the cop car, they rolled down the window, firing several shots. The officer could be heard reporting it and, before he could fire off another round, a sudden impact with the top of their car gave him pause.

“Hi.” Spider-Man was there, crouching on the roof of the car. He greeted the man with a wave, then pointed to the weapon. “Mind if I borrow that?”

“Shit, it’s Spider-Man…!” one of the passengers inside hissed.

Gritting his teeth, the man sticking out of the window twisted himself around so that he could get a better shot, but when he aimed at the young hero, he wasn’t there. Confused, he only had time to start turning his head before the gun was ripped from his hands by a web, suddenly finding himself flying through the air. A mere moment later, he was stuck to the side of a building, watching helplessly as Spider-Man left to pursue the car.

“Hey, guys, I think maybe you should slow down!” the kid shouted after them.

Further down the road, the car started to speed up. Other vehicles had but only a few seconds to dodge the oncoming cars. Spidey managed to land on the top of the police car, much to the surprise of the officers inside. “Evening, officers,” he mumbled as an afterthought, crawling forward to get a better look.

Peering in front of the speeding car, he spotted several unknowing pedestrians crossing the street. “Not good!” he exclaimed, eyes widening, immediately leaping off the car and onto the next one.

Noticing the vehicles speeding towards them, some of the people who barely managed to step out onto the street scrambled back onto the sidewalk as soon as they realized what was happening. Jumping high into the air, Spidey shot out a line at the closest building, zipping past the car. An elderly woman, who was still in the midst of crossing the street, gaped at the sight before her. Just before the car was about to strike her, she was blown back a bit by an odd gust of wind. Startled, she steadied herself and looked up, grasping the shawl around her shoulders between withered fingers. “My stars…” In front of her was Spider-Man, the kid having forcibly stopped the car in its tracks with his bare hands.

The back of the car, which was still in the air, came crashing down to the ground, the passengers inside groaning. Bruised, but alive. “Sorry,” the kid shrugged, panting a bit. “You should probably pay attention to the speed limit next time!”

As the police siren wound down upon the cop car’s arrival, the elderly woman took him aside to the sidewalk nearby. She held out a delicate hand, the teen gently placing his hand in it. The woman smiled, which seemed to multiply her wrinkles, and rested her other hand on top of his. She bowed her head a bit. “Thank you, young man.”

The kid’s heart swelled. “It’s no problem, ma’am. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Then, after bidding her goodnight and checking in with the officers for a bit, he left the scene.

\--

Tony sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen again. He was having a scan done on the potential files that Peter… or whomever it was, tapped into… which meant he had a little reprieve. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing his fingers into the corners of his closed eyelids. He let out a low groan, tapping a pen against the edge of his desk. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” he grumbled softly. Leaning back in his chair, he frowned, stopping the hand holding the pen. Louder, he asked, “Fri, what am I _doing_ here?”

“You are looking into the situation regarding Peter Parker.”

Tony’s eyes wandered the ceiling for a bit. “Yes,” he whispered, eventually closing his eyes. “I know that. But _why_ …?” He sat up, only to hunch over in his seat. He moved his hands a little as he spoke. “I know the kid, don’t I? He’s not the kind of person to…” He tapped the table once. “…to steal.” He waved the pen slightly towards the computer, his brow knitting together in thought as his eyes fell. Maybe he jumped the gun a little, keeping the doors wide open for Peter, but… to doubt his character? “…He wouldn’t do that,” he said to himself, not immediately registering his AI’s voice.

“Boss,” it tried again. “Files salvaged.”

The billionaire blinked, tapping the table a few more times before coming to a stop. “…Show me.”

Several files popped up on screen, including blueprints for some of his suits as well as some things he was currently working on, a foreign website with a pale green background and some questionable searches on it, some notes that he had made (whether they be important or otherwise), multiple images of himself with the Avengers, and, arguably the most shocking, documents stemming from the company bank account that were clearly signed by Peter Parker.

Stark slowly pushed back his chair. A lump began to form in his throat. “Fri…” he whispered, blinking away the glaze forming over his eyes. He cleared his throat, working his jaw and taking in a sharp breath. “Find some free time in my schedule. If there isn’t any, make it happen.” He tilted his head slightly. “…I think it’s time to have a talk with the kid.”

\--

It was a little past ten when Peter finally reached his apartment building. Moving down to the window, he was extra careful to be quiet as he pried it open. Slipping inside, he crawled along the ceiling until he was in the middle of the room. He dropped onto the floor with a slight bounce in his step, letting out a heavy sigh when he landed. Taking off his mask, he glanced down at it for a second before placing it on his bed. When he went for his web shooters, a sudden voice made him flinch:

“Did you forget how to use the front door…?”

“G-geez…!” Peter gasped, whirling around, mouth agape. He huffed, relieved to see it was his aunt leaning in the doorway. “Ah… sorry.” He flashed a smile. “Force of habit, Aunt May,” he breathed, bending over to pick up a tshirt and shorts, holding them to his chest as he straightened back out. He chuckled, looking down at the shirt he was holding, unable to hide his smile. “G― You scared me…”

“ _I_ scared _you_ …” May repeated, the grin clear in her tone. She tapped her fingers on the doorframe. “Alright, tough guy, dinner’s ready.” Pulling back, she offered him a smile, then turned back inside, shuffling into the kitchen.

Peter inhaled deeply, smiling at the smell of the warm home-cooked meal that floated in the air. He’d consider today a plus.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I saw Infinity War. And now I'm dead inside.
> 
> Can we call collectively agree it didn't happen? Thanks.
> 
> Also, for those who need a bit of a refresher, in this story Civil War happened, Dr. Strange happened. Anything leading up to Thor: Ragnarok and Infinity War has not happened and I am deviating from that. Bruce is on Earth, Thor's still got his golden locks.
> 
> Hope that clears things up.

The next morning, Peter awoke to the golden light of the sun peeking in through his window. With a soft groan, he lifted his head from his pillow, under which his arms were tucked. He let out a breath, slowly turning to glance at his door. Hearing no sounds emanating from behind it, he figured it was a bit early. One glance at the time confirmed as much.

Pulling an arm out from under his pillow, he hissed slightly as pins and needles shot up his skin. Evidently, he didn’t move much all night. Slowly he sat up in bed, shaking out his arm as he did, his blanket sliding onto the floor. Squeezing his hand into a fist, he looked to the door again before shuffling out of bed and heading toward it, opening the door and looking out. He could barely manage to open his eyes to see where he was going as he headed for the bathroom, a dull pain behind his eyelids preventing him from doing so. A quiet yawn escaped his mouth as he flipped on the light, closing one eye when it turned on. He stared at his reflection a bit, letting out a small breath of amusement through his nose.

His hair stuck out in a few places, and his disgruntled look made him look a bit silly. Bringing up a hand, he pressed his palm against his eye in an attempt to rub the sleep away, placing his other hand on the rim of the sink. Leaning forward, he dropped his hand so he could further inspect his face, pulling back as he grabbed his toothbrush. After he put some toothpaste on it and started brushing, he stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen.

Making his way over to the refrigerator, he pulled it open after a few small tugs, sticking his head inside. Switching the hand he was brushing his teeth with, he pushed a few things around, glancing behind them before he leaned back. Leftovers and sandwich stuff. He wouldn’t touch the leftovers from last night. Odds are May would want to use that for dinner or lunch. And it was too early for a sandwich today. Grabbing onto the refrigerator door, he closed it and turned around, eyes scanning the kitchen counters. Pausing, he chose to head for the bathroom again, spitting into the sink and flipping on the water to wash it down. Cleaning off the brush, he stuck it back inside the cup sitting near the faucet, then headed back out to the living room.

Looking around the couch, he found the remote sitting on one of the cushions, taking it in his hand and flipping on the television, being certain to keep the volume low. The news began to ramble on in the background as he went to go get himself a bowl of cereal.

“ _ …is looking catastrophic. Reports started pouring in last night, some claiming they saw something wreaking havoc in Annapolis and Boston, _ ” the anchorperson said, looking a bit miffed. Peter walked over with a bowl in hand, munching away at the cereal. “ _ Why these attacks are happening has yet to be confirmed. Whether or not these are the― _ ” A quick glance at the paper they held in their hands. “ _ ―Chitauri… from last year is uncertain. As many will recall, these creatures are… _ ”

“Peter?”

The teen turned around, spotting his aunt standing a few feet behind him. She brushed some hair out of her face, yawning.

“What are you doing up so early…?”

“I just… woke up,” he shrugged.

May nodded slowly, going over to the kitchen to make some coffee. “Are you going to visit Tony Stark today…?” she asked.

“What…?” Peter, who was focusing on the news, slowly tore his eyes away from the TV to look at his aunt. “Um… no?” He fidgeted a bit, some hair falling into his face as he glanced down at his cereal, lifting the handle of his spoon and dropping it against the bowl. “I-I dunno. I just saw him the other day, so…” He thought for a moment, the sound of May grabbing a mug from a cabinet filling the silence. “I’ll probably just hang out at Ned’s or something.”

“Oh,” May turned around after pouring her cup, holding it between both hands, tapping her index finger against it. “Okay, well,” she brought the mug to her lips, “call me when you get there.”

\--

In the new Avengers facility, Tony and Pepper were walking together down one of the long hallways, giving a group of people― reporters and the like― a tour of the place, which was still getting some renovations done. The two of them were ahead of the crowd, Tony explaining the intricacies that keep the building running, being certain to take some of the credit. Pepper walked beside him, looking at a few notes on her tablet while he prattled on.

A reporter’s hand shot up in the midst of his one-sided conversation. Tony saw this out of the corner of his eye, making him stop for a moment. “Okay… Not really answering questions, but…” He made a motion with his hand as an indication for them to continue.

“Some have noticed that you have been commuting between Avengers Tower and the new facility,” they stated. “Is there any reason behind this?” The group focused their attention back on the billionaire.

“That’s… none of your business.” Swiveling on his heel, he continued to walk, ignoring Pepper’s irate gaze.

“But, sir―”

“Aaand over there,” Tony, with a circular motion, used his hand to indicate something outside the window, “is where we keep a lot of our aircraft.” He waved a dismissive hand. “If you ask me, it’s kind of… much―” Looking to Pepper, unable to hide the amusement dancing in his eyes, he wondered, “Uh, is it  _ still _ too late to tell them to move out?”

Pepper glanced up from her notes and shook her head, letting out a small laugh under her breath. She flipped the tablet over, tucking it under her arm. “You’re incorrigible.” She came to a stop, quickly turning around to face the crowd, clapping her hands together. “He’s kidding!” she insisted. Tony came to a halt as well, one hand in his pocket. “Kidding…” She laughed lightly, flashing them a slight smile.

“No, I’m not.” He squinted, his tone facetious. “Who says I am?” He chuckled to himself a bit when he noticed some reporters jotting things down immediately after he was done speaking. “What is it with reporters and taking everything I say seriously…?”

“…You know they can hear you.”

Tony nodded once. “I  _ do _ know that. I should hope so anyway― I’d be really concerned if they  _ didn’t _ .” Then he added, “Well, not exactly, but…”

To Tony, a bit quieter this time, she growled, “I know you’re trying to be cute… Not the right place or time.”

Tony raised his chin. “…You think I’m cute.”

Pepper turned her head to look at him. “I think you’re trying to cause a scene.” They both faced one another. Stepping forward, she started messing with his lapel, murmuring, “You remember how you’re supposed to play nice?”

Tony tilted his head, scrunching up his brow. “Remind me what that is again…?”

“Trying not to make people hate you, that’s what.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous. Plenty of people already hate me.”

Pepper shook her head, furrowing her brow. “What is  _ with _ you today…?” she whispered. Shaking it off, she turned back to the reporters. “You’ll have to forgive Mr. Stark,” she said. “We have several projects in the works so you can imagine with everything going on that we’re a bit busy.” The crowd seemed to bustle excitedly like a colony of bees when she said this.

A man in the back raised his hand. Tony lifted his head, pointing a finger at the man. “Yes! Uh, you.” His brow twitched. “…I wanna say, Jim.”

“William,” the man corrected.

Stark nodded. “Frank.”

“…With the recent attacks in Maryland and Massachusetts, a lot of questions have been going around…” Tony seemed to stiffen at the reporter’s words. “…People have been wondering, are you going to take further action?”

“ _ Sir _ ,” Pepper interjected, stepping forward, “that is NOT an appropriate question to a―”

Tony shook his head slightly, moving forward as well, his eyes fixed on the reporter, a dour look on his face. Pepper frowned.

“Aren’t you the leader of the Avengers?” the man went on. “You should do something about that…”

Pepper, noting Tony’s distant expression, placed a hand on the other’s arm. Stark seemed to spring back to life, drawing in a breath and nodding quickly. Lowering his gaze after a quick glance in her direction, he tucked his thumb into his pocket, flashing an uneasy smile.

“Um…” He blinked several times. “…yeah. I’ll…”

“Mr. Stark?”

Everyone turned, spotting Peter Parker, who stood behind the crowd,with the back of his hand held up to the wall beside him. He offered a brief smile under their gaze, letting his hand slowly fall to his side, his posture appearing to express a desire to duck back around the corner and wait patiently until they were done. “H-hey… everybody,” he greeted. Tony, upon seeing him, cleared his throat and gestured a hand towards him.

“Everyone,” he started, something akin to relief lacing his tone, as he pulled his arm back to brush his thumb across his nose before putting his hand back in his pocket. “This is… an intern of mine― Peter Parker.” A bit quieter, Peter greeted them again with a simple “hi,” raising his hand to give them a wave. Pepper, seeing his hesitance, gestured with her hand for him to come over. After a glance at Tony, Peter carefully shuffled around the group over to her.

“Hi, Peter,” she whispered as he came to a stop right beside her, smiling.

“Hey,” the teen replied, nodding. Ducking his head a bit, he returned the smile. “I-it’s nice to see you.”

Peter let out a heavy sigh through his nose. He felt bad about technically lying to May but while he was on his way to Ned’s house, Tony had sent him a message saying he wanted to talk to him. Ned, of course, was not disappointed. “No way, dude! Tell me all about it when you get back!”

Tony, who had vaguely been watching Peter, scowled at the floor now. With a nod in Pepper’s direction, he faced the group and said, “Sorry to cut this short, folks, but if you’ll allow the  _ lovely _ Ms. Potts to escort you,” this earned a vexed look from her, “I’m sure there’s a bar downstairs…”

Following a bit of hesitation and some coaxing on Pepper’s behalf, the group began to follow her. Stark spotted a short glare from her, to which he responded with both hands in the air in the form of a shrug. Turning now to Peter, he lifted his head lightly in acknowledgment. “Hey, kid.”

“Heeey, Mr. Stark,” the teen replied, stepping closer. “Is… this a bad time?”

Tony looked over his shoulder, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He crinkled his brow, mumbling, “You keep asking that…”

“You know, I guess I just feel bad…?” Peter continued, sounding like he didn’t completely hear the other’s response. “…‘Cause,” he motioned a hand towards the small crowd, “you’re always busy, and then I show up, it’s…”

“Kid,” the older man scoffed softly. “I  _ am _ always busy. I’m ME.” He tilted his head. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fit you in somewhere, Underoos. Relax.” He signaled for Peter to get closer, the teen stepping up to stand beside him. “I keep telling you, if my door’s open…” He moved his hand as if to indicate something but stopped, pulling his arm back and wagging a finger. “You know what? On second thought,” he looked down at Peter, “ _ don’t _ do that. How ‘bout you knock?”

“O… okay,” Peter answered hesitantly, watching Tony walk in front of him and stop.

The teen swallowed, now feeling a bit uncomfortable as the other started to stare. After a bit of silence passed between them, Tony pointed a finger at Peter. “Did you get a new haircut?” he asked suddenly, squinting.

Peter, thrown a bit off guard, laughed and bowed his head, a hand going up to touch his hair as if to double-check. “No,” he chuckled softly, patting his hair down as he lifted his head up again. “No, I-I didn’t, no.”

“No?” Tony hummed. “I could’ve sworn…” Then, back to their previous conversation, he said, “In any case, you get what I’m saying.” They then migrated over to the side of the hallway once a few employees tried to pass them by without disturbing them. “So…” He stopped in his tracks by one of the big windows. “…how’s school been…?” he asked, sounding a bit awkward and stiff.

Peter, not expecting the question, cleared his throat, racking his brain for a quick answer. “Oh, yeah…! It’s been okay, for the most part. Took an exam last week and we just got our grades back.”

The billionaire stared outside as a plane took off of the ground and another landed, zooming around the corner. “And?”

“I got an A.”

Tony glanced back at Peter, a smirk on his face. He nodded, slowly stepping away from the window and wandering across the hallway with his hands in his pockets. “That’s good. Not that surprising, but still good.” With a look outside at the aircraft, Peter shuffled after him, unable to hide his own smile. Tony, walking down the hall a bit, not exactly heading anywhere, came to a stop once again. For a few seconds, he stood still, glowering. Peter watched him with big eyes and, as he opened his mouth to say something, Tony turned to face him. He looked a bit grim. He started carefully, “Anyway, kid…”

Peter frowned slightly, nervous. “Yeah?”

Making a brief indiscernible expression, Tony clapped his hands together once. “I finally finished those new web-shooters for you,” he said quickly, watching as the teen’s eyes began to light up in excitement. “They’re top notch, of course. Did some fine-tuning I think you’ll like. Some stuff I told you about, some I didn’t.”

“Really??”

Tony nodded, raising a brow. “Well, yes… I showed them to you the other day―” He waved a hand in a small arc. “Uh, were you even listening when I was going over its components, or…?”

“No, no, no! I was! And it’s  _ awesome _ , Mr. Stark, thank you,” he assured, pressing his hands together for emphasis. “It’s just…” The teen’s eyes followed where Pepper had led the group aside, then focused back on Tony. “I had a lot on my mind that day.”

“But, everything’s good now, right?” Tony made a face, spreading his fingers. “Everything’s… cool? Nothing I need to worry about?”

Peter blinked, his brow twitching. He looked up at the man, blinking a couple of times, looking puzzled. “Y… yeah…?”

“…You sure?”

“Er, yeah,” he insisted, nodding, his eyes darting briefly. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He offered a gentle smile. “I mean, a lot’s been going on, but… I’m good now.”

_ Lies. _

Tony didn’t say anything right away. After a while he offered him a slight smile, patting the kid’s shoulder. “Okay,” he said. “Just… don’t forget to touch base with me, alright?”

“Yeah,” the kid said with a nod.

“And if you need to talk… you know where to find me.” After giving the teen a pat on the shoulder and sending him on his way, he called out, pointing in the kid’s general direction, “I’m being serious! I don’t like radio-silence!”

“Okay!” came the reply from downstairs. “Bye, Mr. Stark!”

“Bye,” he mumbled, immediately getting out his phone, his eyes darting along the screen as he typed away. Moments later Pepper returned, having dispersed the crowd of reporters by telling them that no further questions would be answered. As soon as she walked up to him, Tony tucked his phone into his pocket.

“Those reporters just don’t quit,” Pepper sighed as she approached. Whipping her head a bit, making her hair move behind her, she came to a stop, placing her hands on her hips. “Thanks for dumping them on me,” she said, her statement, which was etched with a touch of acidity, making Tony flash a tiny smile. “So what did the kid need…?” Her brow raised just a tad. “Is he okay?”

“No, yeah. He’s  _ good _ … from what he told me anyway.” He shrugged, taking his glasses out of his pocket and slipping them on. “You know, off doing his… spidery thing,” he sighed, his eyes widening a little for emphasis.

“Uh huh.” Giving him a once-over, she lifted up her tablet and stated, “I’m going to check on a few things regarding the new shipment that just came in… You…” She chuckled, turning to leave. “…behave yourself.”

Stark looked affronted. He clicked his tongue. “I can’t believe you don’t trust me,” he teased with a shake of his head, beaming when she let out a laugh as she walked away.

“…Boss?”

Tony moved his jaw, watching as Pepper rounded the corner, his smile falling once she was gone. “Yeah,” he acknowledged in a low voice after a pause. “Fri, you finished what I asked?”

“Yes,” replied the AI.

\--

Sanctum Sanctorum: New York

\--

One thirty-two.

The main room was dark, save for the light that leaked in from the round window near the top. Just at the top of the stairwell Doctor Stephen Strange sat, levitating a bit above it, meditating. The quiet pitter-patter of footsteps shuffled behind him, causing his head to turn a little in its direction yet he did not open his eyes.

“Stephen…”

“Wong,” he muttered, furrowing his brow. Pausing, he quietly inquired, sounding almost hopeful, “Lunch time?”

Wong stood beside him now, frowning. He shook his head fervently. “No,” he breathed.

The sorcerer opened his eyes, descending, now standing on the floor, the Cloak of Levitation curling around his frame. He turned to his friend. “Then you’ve found something interesting,” he deduced, his expression lined with concern.

Wong nodded slowly, grimacing. “Strange anomalies have been occurring recently, yes…”

Stephen tilted his head, letting out a puff of air. “So glad I’m not the only one who noticed…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are wondering, there will be more scenes with Tony and Peter later on... It's gonna be a ride so strap in!


	6. Chapter 6

~~Stark~~  Avengers Tower

\--

Pepper came walking down the steps, the further she went the more she glanced inside the genius’s lab. He looked to be working on one of his suits, another one laying nearby, possibly for parts or a maintenance check. Clearing her throat, she slowly pushed the door open.

“Early work day? You left pretty fast after Peter left…”

“Yep,” came Tony’s voice from behind the welding helmet he had on. His eyes flicked across the armor in front of him, lifting his torch to it. “That wasn’t an accident.”

Her face twitched for a second and she averted her gaze when sparks started flying. Cupping a hand over her eyes, she called out, “What’s on the agenda?”

Over the sound of the torch, he told her, “I kind of came here looking for quiet, Pep, so…”

“Yeah, like you’ll get that down here,” she chuckled when he stopped working for a bit.

“Just… don’t let anyone else come in,” Tony muttered, setting the torch down.

The redhead scoffed quietly, looking down at her tablet, which she held in front of her waist with both hands, then back up. “Tony… I’m not your secretary.” She shook her head as he continued to work. She gestured with a vague hand. “Tell them yourself.”

Tony’s eyes, though she couldn’t see them, briefly looked in her direction but not directly at her, instead wandering to the floor. He huffed, frustrated. She wasn’t getting it. “…You should leave too,” he murmured after a pause.

“What?” She had to laugh. Really? She just got there. “You’re… unbelievable.” She took a few steps inside, her shoes clicking on the sleek floor. She stared at him for a moment, watching him work on the arms of one of his suits. “Seriously, what is going ON with you?” she asked, resting her tablet down on his work table and then placing her hands on it, leaning against it. “One minute you’re talking about the kid, he turns you down… and now you’re both playing cat and mouse.” She huffed, “And on top of that, recently you’ve been joking around in interviews… _nonstop_ ―”

Tony swiftly lifted the welding helmet off his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a low growl. “Pep, I _really_ can’t deal with this right now…” he groaned, glaring down at his armor and then closing his eyes. “Could you just―”

“No!” she insisted, pushing herself away from the table, waving her arms furiously. “Why?? Why do you want me to leave, Tony?” Her brow knit together. “Explain that to me. Because if you’re trying to piss me off, you got a great head start.”

“Pepper…”

She shook her head once, crossing her arms. This was ridiculous. “I’m not going anywhere.”

_Annoying._

“ _Pepper!_ ” he snapped suddenly, her words clearly having been ignored, which wasn’t the least bit surprising. “Get out… I mean it.” He was pointing at her now which caused her to glance down at his finger with ire. “If anybody needs something from me,” he pulled the welding helmet back down over his face, his voice slightly muffled when he spoke again, “tell them I’m at the Avengers Facility.”

Pepper blinked the startled expression off her face then frowned with indignation, lifting and dropping her arms as he abruptly rushed over to her, swiping her tablet off the table. Shoving it roughly against her chest, he hastily ushered her through the door and then closed it in her face. “Tony, what…”

\--

It was around two in the afternoon and Spider-Man was on patrol. For once he was thankful that fall break was a thing but it didn’t exactly last longer than two or three days. The thought of going back to school tomorrow was equally exciting and dreadful. Even with the time off, that meant more time to help out the city, and it was harder than it looked. “I know the weekend was a few days ago but I’m already exhausted,” he breathed as he switched arms, rounding a corner and swinging over the edge of a shorter building.

As he was zipping over the streets of New York, the sounds of scuffling nearby caught his attention and he immediately headed for the noise. In an alleyway that lead to a small open grassy courtyard behind several apartments, a group of people were hassling a man in a hoodie, probably looking for money. Landing on a nearby roof and crawling down the wall a bit to get a better vantage point over the many wires of drying laundry, he winced when the man was shoved against the side of a dumpster.

“Hey!” he called down below, causing some of the attackers to look up. “It’s not nice to pick on people, you know!”

Taking this as an opportunity, he shot out a web and caught one of the four assailants, wrapping her up on the railing of the closest fire escape. As he was about to spring down to help the lone man, he was surprised to see him holding his own. After knocking one of the other people down to the ground, the hooded man was fighting one-on-one with another woman, her other partner attempting to sneak up on him. Without looking back he dodged a kick sent straight for the back of his head by rolling away, twisting the woman’s arm and flipping her over and onto the ground with an audible thump against the grass.

“Whoa,” the teen gasped, watching the man land a punch to the face of the crook to his right. Another punch followed by a knee to the gut managed to bring the guy to his knees. “How…” After waiting to see if anyone had any more fight left in them, the kid let out a small sound, springing off the wall, spinning once in the air, and landing on his feet. “Dude, that was awesome!” he declared, arms outstretched, awestruck. “How did you do that??”

“Practice,” was the reply. “…I appreciate the help,” the man said in a sullen tone, keeping his head low as he stretched the fingers in an aching fist.

“You were so cool…” Spidey gushed, glancing down at the people on the ground beside hooded man before him. With the other turning his head in his direction, he was suddenly made completely aware of the older man’s presence. “Ah, sorry!” he said quickly, holding up and waving his hands. “I was just… swinging by, thought you needed some help… but it looks like you’ve got things covered!” He chuckled to himself, gesturing towards the man with a finger. “Seriously, though, I wish I had a guy like you around more often…!” he laughed. “Things would be SO much easier―”

“Be vigilant.”

“H― Wait, what?”

The man said nothing, choosing only to start walking away. After taking a few steps, he stopped, mumbling, “Something is coming…”

Before he could say anything to that, the man was gone, wasting little time in darting off and around the corner. Making quick work to apprehend the crooks in some webbing and leave a nice ‘thank you’ note to the cops, Spider-Man zipped a line to the top of the nearest building and quickly pulled himself up. “Huh. Just who _was_ that guy?” he wondered to himself as he leapt onto the roof of the next building, landing with a grunt. He frowned, standing up straight, tilting his head. “Way to be cryptic.” He crossed his arms, looking out at the bright blue sky. “What was he talking about, ‘be vigilant’? …It sounds like a warning.” He shot another web out, swinging down the street. “I dunno, but I’m not gonna ignore that…”

\--

Stephen was pacing the floor in the foyer, staring down at it in thought, a hand pressed over his mouth, his fingers curled around his chin.

“Why haven’t the Avengers addressed this?” Wong inquired, looking troubled.

Strange stopped walking, dropping his arm and turning to his mentor. He spoke sharply, unable to hide the vexation in his tone. “Obviously, they are incapable of spearheading this kind of issue…” His turquoise gaze fell and he tilted his head a little. “But you’re right,” he agreed, eyes flickering up to meet Wong’s own. “This is something they _should_ address but they _aren’t_.” His eyes wandered the room and he squinted when he focused back on Wong. “Interesting.”

Wong, who was standing near the bottom of the stairs, grumbled irritably as Strange went on. “And if the recent falling out that they’ve had is anything to go by, I can see why some of them haven’t come out of hiding.”

“Regardless, Stephen,” Wong continued, watching as the sorcerer began to pace again, Strange bringing his hand back up to his face. “We _need_ to do something about it if _they_ won’t. This has gone on for too long.” Mystical or otherwise, the Earth is still their domain.

He nodded slowly, acknowledging the other’s words. Coming to a stop, he spoke again. “…Multiple lightning storms, burning buildings reduced to dust and ash… Not your everyday disaster, but a familiar source…” He tapped his index finger against his cheek. “God of Thunder,” he mused to himself, “what are you doing?”

-

Somewhere in the District of Columbia, a bright orange ring of light spun into form atop the John F. Kennedy Center, and out stepped Stephen, his eyes flicking across the water of the bay nearby. The bustling of taxis and cars that drove past along with the chatter of passerby was ever present. The distant sound of birds could be heard as well. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary… yet. After checking the likes of Richmond, Trenton, and Concord, all with no clear signs of damage, he eventually landed himself in the middle of Philadelphia.

The sky was darker than an average storm would bring, bolts of lightning zipping and threading through the clouds, threatening to crash down onto the unsuspecting ground below. Clicking his teeth, he rose and then sped off into the heart of the storm.

“Thor!!” he shouted, though his voice did little to leave his presence. In the midst of it all, he had little visibility, with the dark clouds and blinding light assisting in that. The rain served only to soak him to the bone and tick him off just a bit. But he remained, deciding it was best to descend to be on the safer side. Spotting a tall building down in the city below, he floated down towards it, landing with a heavy breath, panting as he look up to the sky again, squinting as the rain practically attacked his face. “THOR!!” he tried again, swallowing when the strain was a bit much.

“I hear you, wizard,” a voice boomed, causing him to whirl around. Simultaneously, as the demigod before him spoke, the winds died down just slightly. “You do not have to shout.” He cocked his head, frowning. What was Strange doing here?

Stephen’s expression fluttered for a moment as he hesitated in approaching the other man. After a pause, he steeled himself and took a step forward, the Cloak furling around him as though to appear menacing. “Why are you doing this??” he challenged.

Thor, who stood on the adjacent side of the vacant rooftop, lifted his head towards the storm. He absentmindedly shook Mjölnir in his hand, watching the rain scatter and curtain along the sky. “On Asgard I am quite able to control every aspect of the weather …” he pondered, seeming to be somewhat amused. “But here it is much more unpredictable.”

Strange held out a hand. “Thor,” he started carefully. “I will ask you again.” The blonde focused his blue eyes on the sorcerer again. “Why… are you doing this?”

At these words the demigod looked a bit puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

The other exhaled sharply, moving his hand to hover over the cityscape below. “There are _people_ … down there. Innocent people.” Thor grew stiff. “Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to _stop_.”

Suddenly, Thor burst into a loud, boisterous laughter, which caused the doctor to scowl. “People…? _People?_ Are you mad??” he rasped, the winds whipping across their faces. He pointed to the streets below. “Why― There is no one _here_ …!” He chuckled softly, his expression soon turning bitter. “They made certain of that.”

No one? _Clearly_ , he could see the cars frantically speeding away from the oncoming storm, couldn’t he? But Stephen chose not to focus on that. “‘They’?” He took another step forward, intrigued. “Who are you talking about?”

“The Avengers,” the blonde nearly choked, turning his head away, blinking several times. Out of nowhere a burst of lightning expelled from his body, coiling around him like a vicious and extremely lethal snake. The Cloak pulled Strange back and Thor tightened his grip on Mjölnir. “I do not wish to talk about them,” he told him quickly with a short glance in his direction.

“Okay. Okay,” Stephen said slowly after looking up towards the sky and noticing the increasing bolts of lightning shooting across the sky. The Avengers? What was he talking about? Waving his hands back and forth once, he offered an uneasy smile. “We won’t talk about that.” Strange raised his gaze again, his eyes nervously darting about the sky. Focusing his gaze back on the blonde, he held up his hands, both of which trembled despite his calm demeanor. “Um, Thor… why… why don’t you and I just head back to New York? We can explain everything, and work from there.” He tilted his head slightly, glancing down at Mjölnir, which Thor merely clasped tighter. “Just… put the hammer down, and we’ll go see Stark.”

“Stark…” the demigod bellowed, pensive, his eyes falling and his expression twisting in consternation. “He cannot be trusted.”

\--

Five-thirty.

 _I know I haven’t really been talking to Mr. Stark_ , Peter thought to himself as he walked over to the steps of the new facility, stopping only to look back at the car where Happy was locking it. He then glanced down at his phone, which he partially pulled out of his pocket to see if he had any new messages, having called May earlier to let her know what he was doing. Fall break or not, it was still Tuesday after all. Tucking his cell back in his pants, he swallowed. He just saw him earlier that day, and yet… _But now’s as good a time as any to pay him a visit._

Ever since the whole thing regarding homecoming, he sort of resorted to focusing solely on school and hero work. Though Tony wasn’t necessarily looking into the footage that Karen kept every single time he was on patrol, he stopped talking to her more as a formality because it felt a little awkward to essentially cut ties with the guy while also using his tech. Not that he didn’t appreciate Karen’s company― heck, if he wasn’t talking to himself, he was talking to her.

None of it made sense, and recently everything felt like it had been coming at him a hundred miles an hour. The girl he liked had moved. He fought her father, and to him it felt like it was just the other day.

Tony had berated him for putting people in danger and then turned around to welcome him with open arms as an Avenger. And then he said no! He felt like such an idiot. He had his reasons, of course, and he wouldn’t forget why he rejected the offer, but he would be damned if he didn’t somewhat regret that decision. Avenger or not, he would still have a lot of responsibility on his shoulders.

His Aunt May found out about Spider-Man, which made talking to her almost feel like his nerves were being forcibly twisted and wrung out like a wet towel every single time he tried to speak to her.

It was hard.

But he was being brave today, deciding that instead of going home, he would personally give Stark an update him on his patrol like he used to. Maybe Tony would be interested to hear about what the mystery man said earlier that day.

Jogging up the steps, he went to the door, swinging it wide open and walking inside. One of the new features that they had added to the building was a front desk. Peter had to wonder why they would have that even though this facility was a little more off the grid, but he guessed it was probably a precaution for any public figures that may walk in, so that they feel that this is a more professional location, at least in its outward appearance. Though business was business, Peter liked to think that the people were more friendly than other workplaces. The banter between Tony and other employees alone was a huge example of this idea, making the place look professional but feel comfortable. He liked that.

Striding up to the front desk, he placed his hands on the edge of the counter, grinning at the woman who sat there typing away. “Hi,” he greeted cheerfully. “I’m here to see Mr. Stark,” he added when she didn’t look up right away.

The lady, upon seeing him, typed one more thing before she stopped what she was doing so she could give him a gentle smile, her fingers hovering over her keyboard. “Hi, Peter,” she chuckled. “I know who you are, you don’t have to keep telling me.”

“I know,” he said. “I just like saying…” He shrugged, briefly making a face. “…hi.” Blinking, his eyes widened for a moment. “Um, is Mr. Stark here today?”

“Yes,” she hummed, glancing at her computer and typing something else. “I _believe_ so but you can’t quote me on that. He’s always moving around,” Peter gave her a nod and she waved a hand, “but feel free to go on up anyway and check.”

Peter nodded again, patting the counter with both hands, uttering a “mmkay” before pulling back and stepping away from it. As he started heading to the stairs, Happy strode in, an always-present exhausted expression on his face when he spotted the teen and headed after him.

“You have your card, right?” the woman called after Peter.

“Uh, yeah!” came his response, the boy stopping mid-step to frantically check his pockets. Happy, who was walking up a few steps behind him, flashed her Peter’s access card with a huff. When he spotted the card in between the man’s fingers, the kid pointed to it, starting his ascent again. “We got it!” he assured.

The woman couldn’t help but giggle at the teen’s demeanor, watching for a moment as the two disappeared over the top of the steps. Time ticked by as she worked, and around ten minutes later, Peter came scrambling down the steps, a concerned look on his face. Happy wasn’t too far behind but he appeared to be less in a hurry, though he too looked a bit aggravated. The lady at the front desk pulled back a little in her chair, startled when Peter practically rammed himself into the table when he came to a stop. She looked on in confusion as the teen abruptly held out his access card to her.

“I-I don’t know if I did something, or…” He pressed his thumb hard against the plastic. “…I mean we… I-I tried it a _bunch_ of times,” he stammered.

“The kid’s card isn’t working,” Happy announced with a sigh as he came to a stop behind Peter, who looked back at him for a second with wide eyes. The woman hesitantly took hold of the card, inspecting it before setting it down and typing into the computer. “I’d use mine,” he added, “but Tony’s thorough.”

“And the system won’t allow that,” she finished, frowning at her screen.

Access denied?

She glanced up at Peter, noting his worried and antsy appearance. It didn’t make any sense. Her eyes fell, then she smiled. “It’s just a bug,” she assured, receiving a nearly silent “oh” in response. “We have a new system…” Her gaze flickered over to Happy, a knowing look in his eyes. She rested her hand on the card and then gave Peter a reassuring smile. “I’ll run it by Mr. Stark and get it sorted out… Sorry, Peter.”

“No,” the kid said with a small nod and a confused expression, stepping back from the table, “it’s… it’s fine.” He clapped his hands together quietly, pursing his lips as he walked backwards a few steps. A bit disappointing but he didn’t have time to stay long anyway…

“I’ll keep you posted when everything’s in order.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” he mumbled, facing the door and heading out, Happy on his tail.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I KNOW it's confusing...
> 
> It wouldn't be a mystery though if I gave everything away now, would it? ;)

Stephen slowly lowered his hands a bit. He cocked his head, frowning. “What do you mean, ‘Stark can’t be trusted’…?” When the Asgardian didn’t answer, he shook his head impatiently. “Fine, don’t tell me,” he said with a sigh, dropping his hands. “We need to get out of here anyway.” His eyes explored the sky. “Think you can keep your powers under wraps for the time being…?”

“Yes,” Thor nodded once. He then holds out a hand, taking one step forward, squinting skeptically. “Ah― for the record, we are  _ not _ going to Stark’s… correct?”

Strange blinked. Why was the guy so adamant about that? “No. We’re not,” he answered, turning away and bringing up his hands again, curling his fingers. As he drew out a portal, he continued, “We’ll just be going to the Sanctum… Figure things out there.” He nodded towards the portal. “Let’s go.”

Thor took a few steps forward, sighing heavily as he quickly came to a stop, bowing his head. He took a moment to speak, his eyes wandering along the ground for a bit. “You’ll have to forgive me, wizard…”

Stephen’s brow twitched, confused by his friends words. He turned to face him. “What are you talking about―” His eyes fell to Mjölnir, which the demigod had begun to spin. His eyes flickered up to meet Thor’s blue ones. For a second the two didn’t move other than Strange himself starting to conjure up a shield, his expression disturbed. “Thor…” he tried in a warning tone.

Suddenly the Asgardian rushed forward, the arm holding his hammer extended. Before he could react, due to their close proximity, Strange found himself in the other’s grasp, the Cloak trying desperately to yank him out of it. What little magic had started to appear promptly fizzled out as he grabbed onto the other’s arm in an attempt to wrest it away from him. He let out a yelp as Thor tightened his grip, his ocean eyes widening as they stared at the other man. “Oh, gods…” Stephen gasped to himself.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde said quickly, his eyes darting for a moment. With a grunt, he lashed his hammer out at the man, sending the sorcerer flying through the portal, which then closed behind him.

From inside the Sanctum, Wong heard a shout followed by a crash. Jumping up from the table he was reading at, he scrambled for the entrance, gasping softly when he saw his protégé immobile on the floor, some debris resting on top of him.

“Strange…!” he called out, speeding down the steps and rushing over to where the man had clearly skidded across the floor, immediately shoving some of the rubble of the nearby wall off of him. “Stephen?? What happened?” He frowned down at him, puzzled. He gave him a brief once-over. “Are you alright?”

Strange didn’t meet the man’s eyes, merely staring up at the ceiling. He blinked then smacked his lips, closing his eyes before he spoke. “No, Wong,” he croaked, heaving a sigh. “I just got hit by a  _ hammer _ …”

\--

“So what’s this I hear about you locking the kid out of your lab?” came Happy’s wondering tone.

Tony shot a balled up piece of paper over to the trash bin, Dum-E immediately going over to inspect it. He was on a call with the other man, holding his phone against his ear, which was resting against his shoulder. Happy continued.

“I mean, it’s one thing having to deal with the protocols that prohibit people from going to the wrong floors― being where they shouldn’t be, all that crap…”

“Right,” came a mumbled response.

“But now I gotta hear the kid whine about it. He usually goes up there no problem. Tony…” Happy sighed through his nose. “…what’s going on?”

Tony glanced up from his hands, spotting Dum-E waving him over. He knit his brow, lifting his head from his shoulder, between which he was balancing his phone, and switched it over to his other ear. “Uh… yeah,” he started, not completely paying attention. He shuffled over to his robot, which was helping him pack the rest of his things. It held an Iron Man mug up to him, to which he frowned at. Taking it in his hand, he turned it over before shaking his head and handing it back. “No, I don’t need that…” he whispered, shooing the bot.

“ _ Tony. _ ”

“Yes…! I’m listening,” he replied, moving away from Dum-E, only for it to bump into his back with the mug. He whirled around, squinting at it.

“No, you’re not…”

“ _ No _ ,” Stark hissed at Dum-E in a hushed voice, the robot letting out a small electrical whine as it lowered its arm. He clicked his tongue then sighed sharply, gesturing vaguely to the other boxes in the room.

“You’re doing that thing―”

“Go put it in your box if you want it so badly…” Tony muttered, watching as his robot scurried off.

“―where you pretend to pay attention, but you’re not.”

Tony swung around, sauntering over to his computer, leaning over it briefly to check something on its screen. “No.” He chuckled softly to himself. “What…  _ ever _ would give you that idea…?” With his free hand, he typed on a few keys before pressing enter and stepping away again. Happy audibly groaned on the other line.

“Just… tell me what’s going on. I feel like this was something you should have run by me or…” In the background a helicopter passed overhead. “…I don’t know. Why’d you do it? I need something to tell the kid― he won’t stop calling me about it.”

The brunette swiped a pen off of one of his desks, tossing it in the air and catching it. “I thought you liked playing twenty questions…” he teased.

Happy grumbled, shaking his head. “I’m being serious, Tony. What do I tell him?”

Stark shrugged, tapping the pen against his chin. “You know, do what you always do…” He plopped down into his chair, leaning back in it. “Pretty sure he’s well-acquainted with your voicemail by now―”

_ More assertive. _

“…Or, and here’s a better option… don’t tell him anything. Block his number,” he stated simply, clicking the pen once with his index finger.

“What?”

The billionaire made a face, despite the other’s inability to see it. “I’m being serious.” He wiggled the pen back and forth between two fingers. “Kid’s gotta learn that these are tough times, and I can’t keep holding his hand.”

Happy scowled. “That’s… a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

It was Stark’s turn to frown. “Says the guy who can’t be bothered to return a fifteen year old’s calls.” When he was met with silence, he smirked. “Anyway, next time, bother me with something that actually matters, okay?” And without waiting for a response, he said his goodbye and promptly hung up. He had work to do.

\--

Six twenty-five.

Not getting to see Tony again was fine, for the most part. He had already seen him that day, but he couldn’t help it. It just sucked that the one time he actually warmed up to the idea of going to talk to the billionaire, not the other way around, didn’t work out in the end. He’d probably get another chance anyway.

Happy didn’t waste time in sending him home, but Peter left almost as soon as he arrived. May understood because he had hero work to do, but of course she was a bit apprehensive.

While he was out on patrol for the evening, a commotion on a nearby roof got his attention. There was several groups of workers surrounding a leaking water tower. One quick look around the side of the building told him they had cleared the area.

“Dammit, we’re losing water!!” barked a fuming man who Peter assumed was the one in charge.

A worker standing beside him with a clipboard spoke. “We know, boss, but the pressure’s too tough.”

“Hey, guys!” he greeted as he got close, flipping in the air before he landed. “Need some help?”

“Spider-Man…!” one of the workers gasped.

He crossed his arms and tilted his head, eying the damage. “How did  _ this _ happen?”

“Dunno,” a female worker answered. “Looks like something bore a hole through the side of it.” As the kid swiftly jumped on the side of it and crawled around it to get a closer look, she continued, “That metal’s melted completely.”

“We got it handled, Spider-Man,” the leader grumbled dismissively, walking up to join them. The young hero turned around from where he sat on the structure.

“Yeah,” the teen said, glancing over his shoulder to watch as more water spewed from the tower. “I can see that…” He crawled over to the damage, racking his brain. “…but it’s not a problem if you have some extra hands, right?” Before the man could object, he sprung off of it and landed further away, jogging over to another group of workers. He pointed down at a metal plate that lay at their feet. “May I see that for a second…?”

“Spider-Man…” the older man growled.

The kid came running back over, metal sheet in hand. Upon hearing the other, he held out a finger. “I won’t be long, I promise…! J-just gimme a sec!” he assured, tripping a bit and then jumping onto the side of the tower again. Attaching one hand to the side for leverage, he bent over and started to lower the metal sheet down. The hole was small but the sheer amount of water bursting from it was strong. As the sheet came in contact with it, it flew out of his grasp. “Whoops…!” Sending out a web, he pulled it back, catching it.

Glancing around the area, he spotted the top of the tower. Squinting, he sent a web in its direction, pulling on it when it latched on.

“What are you doing??” shouted another worker.

“Don’t know yet!” he admitted, glancing down at the ground below.

“This kid…” the man in charge muttered under his breath, gesturing with a hand.

Turning the sheet over on its side, he placed his foot against it, the metal immediately clinging to it. With his other foot, he pushed himself off, loosening his hold on the web but still keeping it in his hand. As he lowered himself, he came rushing back to the tower. Sticking both legs out, the metal plate now parallel to the side of the tower, he held up an arm to catch himself once he landed. When he collided with the side, the sound reverberated inside. “Don’t move, please,” he whispered to himself. Panting quietly, he quickly glanced down, releasing his web before shooting several shots at the metal in order to keep it in place. Once he was certain it wouldn’t move right away, he relaxed, climbing down it and sealing off the other edges. With a grunt, he pulled himself over the tower, hopping down.

“That’s not gonna hold long,” he told them as a few came running up, some immediately grabbing their tools and darting past him. His eye followed them, but only for a moment. “Figured you needed something strong enough to adhere some metal to the side so you could weld it shut but since the water pressure was pretty dense… you know.” He shrugged. “I-I’m sorry!” he tried quickly, pressing his hands together in a respectful gesture when he spotted the irate expression of the boss nearby.

“Don’t worry about him,” one person said. “He always looks like that.”

“Yeah, seriously! That was amazing!” a second chimed in.

“You’re gonna go far, kid,” an older gentlemen spoke up, pointing at him for emphasis.

Peter’s heart soared. “Aw… thanks, guys!” he chirped with a nod, shooting a web to the adjacent building. “Glad I could help!” he hollered, swinging away from the scene.

As he sped through the streets, he shot a line up to a tall building with long glass windows. Down below, a few civilians called after him, to which he shouted, “Hey! How’s everybody doin’??” Still hearing their cheers as he ascended, he couldn’t help but grin as he landed on the side of the structure, all four extremities clinging to the glass. He briefly glanced inside out of curiosity, noting that it was an office building, then started heading for the rooftop.

\--

Wong reached out, careful to grab hold of his friend’s arm. The sorcerer shook as his hand went to grab onto Wong’s sleeve for support, hissing through his teeth as they both tried to pull him up. The Cloak gently nudged Stephen from behind to help him to his feet.

“What happened?” Wong insisted.

“Thor,” Strange replied as he stumbled a bit.

The man looked incredulous. “Thor?”

The other shrugged. “Yeah.” Something felt off about that whole interaction though. He wouldn’t say anything yet… not until he was sure. Some movement brought him back to reality and he abruptly lifted up his arms in confusion, feeling something patting him down, but he was quick to realize it was the Cloak dusting him off. He chuckled bitterly, adding, “Guess I have a knack for pissing off Norse gods…”

Suddenly Stephen winced, closing his eyes and turning away, one of his quivering hands instinctively going up to his head. The Cloak tentatively wrapped the bottom corner of its fabric around the doctor’s hand in reassurance. He opened eyes again, his gaze falling to it but he remained silent, looking stern, lost in thought. He hesitantly returned the gesture, the trembling in his hand slowing just slightly.

Wong frowned. “Strange…”

Stephen whipped around to look at his friend. He let out a short, heavy sigh. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered, eyes seeming to scan something before focusing back on the other man. “We need to move.”

\--

Peter smiled at the reflection of the sun on the windows. “Wow…” he sighed. “That looks awesome.”

_ I wonder if Karen’s getting this _ , he pondered.

After a pause, he shook his head as he continued his ascent. “Never get tired of that.”

He suddenly frowned under his mask, the tingling of his spider sense abruptly going off. “What…?” He crawled further up the building, stopping and leaning off of it, keeping one hand attached and readjusting his feet as he looked around furiously.

Shadows creeping in overhead caught his attention and his eyes snapped to the sky. His stomach dropped as a sea of Iron Man suits peeked out over the horizon, diving straight for him. He gulped. “Oh, man…”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Lol I need to stop making edits...)

“That… doesn’t _look_ like the Iron Legion…” Peter murmured, furrowing his brow.

Three suits then flew ahead of the pack, stopping several meters above and away from the building. Each held out both arms, charging up their gauntlets.

“Definitely not the Iron Legion!” he quickly realized, eyes widening as he rolled out of the line of fire.

Lowering their arms, the suit on the left came charging for him, arm extended. As he went to dodge, another dive-bombed him from behind, grabbing onto his leg and effectively sweeping him off his feet before it let go. The first then grabbed onto the boy’s face, lifting him off the floor and then slamming him back into it, the concrete giving way a bit under the pressure. Letting out a cry, Peter grabbed onto the metal hand and pushed as hard as he could, eventually managing to slip himself out from under its grasp, though his mask and some of his hair was wrested from his head in the process.

His heart was racing as his eyes flashed to each of the suits. He counted more than ten, maybe fifteen or so. His senses were panicking, going off louder as the suit with his mask tightly clasped in its hand slowly turned to face him, its chest glowing brighter and brighter.

The teen’s eyes widened as he jumped back, flipping over in the air and landing onto the back of another suit just before his initial assailant shot its laser in his direction, promptly destroying the suit he landed on in the process just seconds after he leapt onto the next one. Seeming to recognize what he was doing, it shut off its cannon, stalking over to him slowly. Okay, so they were drones. That… that was a good sign, right?

It was then that he remembered where he was as the suit he was resting on began to fly off. Like a murder of crows, the others followed, the one on the roof also taking off after them. Almost knocked over, Peter clung onto the back of the suit, though when it twirled in the air and flew upside-down, his feet slipped off and he was left dangling off of it.

“Oh my god!!” he shrieked, as he looked back to see the other suits firing their small rockets at him.

With a huff, he swung his legs, crunching and pulling them up for a moment, just barely dodging the blasts. The whipping of his hair and the wind across his face along with the honking of bustling cars below caused his heart rate to significantly increase as he was suddenly made very aware that he didn’t have his mask on.

Switching his hands so he could turn around, he spotted the vague red blur of his mask still in the grip of one of the suits. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and exhaling, he opened them and went to shoot out a web. A short buzz then emanated from his webshooter, and he let out a yelp when it short-circuited and shocked him. After giving it a confused glance, he shook out his hand and then tightened it into a fist, grabbing back onto the Iron Man suit. Swinging his legs again, he launched himself at the other suit, reaching his hand out.

His heart rejoiced when it came in contact with the mask and he managed to tug it out of the armored hand’s grasp with his momentum. But then he realized he was free-falling. Peter frantically tugged his mask back on, jumping onto the head of one suit and springing off of it as it went crashing into the corner of the nearest building and plummeting to the ground. People down below scattered in a panic.

He began to fidget with his webshooter, but upon finding it busted, he looked to his other one. Out of his peripheral, he saw the ground getting closer. “Please, work…” he whispered, holding out his other arm. If it did, and he judged this right, he could get to the ground safely… but it had to work. It had to.

Pressing his fingers on the tab, his heart jumping around against his ribs, he let out a gleeful yet unintelligible sound when a web shot out of it.

Aiming and sending one to the boot of another drone, he swung under it, only for it to heat up its boot and break the connection. Falling for a bit as another suit came at him with its arms outstretched, he ducked out of the way, sending another line out, this time attaching it to its chest, his weight pulling it down with him.

“Move, move, move…!” he warned civilians as he got closer to the ground, some people immediately taking off upon seeing him headed their way. “Everybody, get outta the way!”

Spinning around, the suit he was attached to abruptly fired its repulsor at the web, once again rendering Peter without a line. Fortunately, he was close enough to the ground, somersaulting when he landed in order to prevent major injury. Shaking his head, his attention snapped back up to the suit that hovered from above, a few startled pedestrians gaping at it in terror.

“Everyone, you need to― ACK!” Peter was suddenly cut off as he scrambled back away from an oncoming metal boot, which cracked the sidewalk when it landed. The expressionlessness of the suit that was normally worn by his idol was unnerving to say the least.

Placing his hands on the pavement just above his head, he lifted his legs, flipping backwards and out of the way of another boot, the rocket at the bottom ignited. When he landed a couple feet away, it locked onto him. His stomach dropped and he picked himself up, taking off running before springing onto the next building.

“Mr. Stark, what are you doing…?” he wondered quietly.

\--

Somewhere else in Forest Hills

\--

A gleaming golden portal spun into existence, Stephen and Wong stepping out, a long weapon in a sash behind the latter’s back. As the former waved the portal away, the two faced each other.

“Wong,” Strange sharply directed two of his fingers at fleeing civilians, “I need you do help me… Save as many people as you can.” When he got a nod in return, he glowered as he prepared to take off. “I need to find out what’s causing this.”

\--

Parker Residence

\--

May sat on the couch, cup in hand, facing the front door. Peter wasn’t home yet, but she tried not to let it bother her too much, instead keeping to her reading.

To keep her mind at ease, though it seemed counterintuitive considering, she started turning the television set to the news channel. While she never had much of an opinion about her nephew’s alter-ego prior to finding out his identity, hearing about his heroics now gave her both an equal sense of pride and anxiety.

“ _This just in…_ ” the newscaster’s voice chimed in loudly, bringing May away from her book, immediately sitting up in her seat once she heard what they said next. “ _I’m receiving word that THE Spider-Man is fighting Iron Man! Or what looks to be Iron Man…_ ”

The news cut to a shot of Spider-Man holding onto the arm of one of the drones, pulling it in the direction of another. He quickly jumped onto the closest building when they crashed into each other, causing an explosion, their parts raining down.

“  _It’s not looking good, folks,_ ” the anchorperson frowned. “ _These appear to be the works of one Anthony Stark…”_ They glanced at their screen for a second. “ _It’s hard to mistake his signature style, of course… but now, as I’m sure many of us are wondering, whether or not we’re in any immediate danger―_ ”

The scene then cut to the young hero diving off another building, another suit in tow, a web drawn between them. Latching onto the side of the complex with his feet, he used his upper body strength to send the drone flying into the ground.

“ _―or if this is merely an exercise has yet to be determined. Many reports have come in stating that there have been some close calls in regards to casualties, but no major injuries have been reported. We will keep you posted._ ”

The camera then zoomed in on the teen as he leaned back against the building, the heaving of his chest showing that he was visibly exhausted.

“Peter…” May gasped softly, her mug slipping from her fingers and shattering on the floor. She immediately ran to get her phone, slipping a bit as she headed for her room.

The newscaster shook their head. “ _…In any case, it seems like Spidey’s had enough. And by the looks of it, so has Queens._ ”

\--

Location: A Rooftop

\--

“This is crazy!” Peter sputtered, staring wide-eyed at the broken suit parts that lay on the concrete before him. What was going on? Was this a test?

The propelling sound of jets cut through his thoughts, causing him to whirl around quickly, his hair whipping across his sweaty forehead. He barely had enough time to propel himself away with a web as yet another suit came crashing onto the rooftop. He landed on the rooftop entrance with a grunt, scrambling over the top and leaning over the edge to get a better look. He waited, panting as the suit slowly rose to its feet, focusing its laser eyes on him.

“Oh, great,” he breathed, pulling his mask back on despite finding it harder to catch his breath. “Another one…!”

As the suit began to raise its arm to charge a blast in his direction, Peter stuck out his own, shooting out a web directly at the armored hand. Quickly climbing down the side of the door, he pushed off with his legs, holding onto his web tight. He shot past the metal suit, diving over the edge of the building, pulling on its arm as he fell. He then aimed a web at the ledge, slingshotting himself high into the air. When he glanced down, he noticed the suit was thrown a bit off balance. Wrapping the webbing tight around his wrist, he took this as an opportunity to pull on the web still attached to the armor, using it as leverage to come crashing down onto its chest.

He let out an involuntary hiss when he straightened back up. “I hope Mr. Stark won’t be mad me for breaking his stuff…” he mumbled to himself.

“You don’t hafta worry about that,” Tony’s voice suddenly spoke up, reverberating from the suit.

Peter’s brow furrowed briefly as his senses began screaming at him. His gaze fell, focusing on the armor, its free arm abruptly whipping around and grabbing onto his leg. He winced as it tightened its grasp and then, before he could completely register what was happening, he was launched into the air.

“Woahwoahwoah!!”

Flailing his arms a bit as he fell, he eventually managed to pull himself back towards the building with a web, bouncing a bit when he landed. It was then that he noticed the suit had broken free of his web, the ground completely burned where it once was. Scanning the ground for a moment, he looked up toward the sky, frowning.

“Mr. Stark??” he called out, tone laced with confusion. He just heard Tony’s voice… Was the genius just watching this happen?

Then behind him the suit appeared, floating in midair. From its speaker, Stark’s voice resonated.

“Hey, kid.”

Something about the nonchalant tone irritated Peter to some degree. Turning to face the armor, his nose scrunched up a bit, he shook his head and held out an arm. “Wh… what?” He glanced down at the ground for a second, his expression even more lost when he looked back up. “What IS this, Mr. Stark? I don’t understand.” When he gained no response, he continued. “Why―” He gestured an arm behind him, alluding to the debris nearby, looking back momentarily as though to double check the scattered parts were there. “―why did I just fight… I dunno, _twenty_ of your iron guys??”

“Well, they’re meant for combat, so I don’t _exactly_ know what you’re getting at…”

“Why are we fighting??” He fumbled for words. “I don’t― Did I do something wrong?”

There was a pause. “…That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it…?”

Peter blinked, looking more confused by the minute. None of this was adding up. Why would Tony send his suits to attack him? Sure, the guy wasn’t the best at sharing his feelings but he was never _this_ bad.

\--

Across Town Somewhere

\--

A scream suddenly cut through the air. Stephen whipped around, spotting a man cowering as some sort of rubble slipped off from the top of the building nearby, heading straight for him. Quickly, swiping his hand in a circular motion, he made a portal appear just above the man, sending the debris crashing through another portal beside him.

Realizing he wasn’t in any immediate danger, the man let out a big sigh of relief. Upon spotting Strange hovering down to inspect the debris, he beamed and ran over.

“Did you do that?” he asked, extending a hand down to the crouching sorcerer. “Thank you so much! You saved my life!”

The other moved his jaw, recognizing the pitiful heap in front of him as some sort of mechanical armor. “Stark…”

“I’m sorry…?”

Stephen looked up with big blue-green eyes when he realized he was being spoken to. Blinking, he then rose to his feet, taking the other’s hand, wincing when the man tightened their grip. “It’s no problem,” he said with a small smile, pulling back his hand and gently massaging it. “Please get to cover.” He shook his head once. “It’s not safe.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” the man said, making a beeline in the opposite direction he was initially walking in.

Stephen sighed through his nose. He had to find Tony.

\--

“Mr. Stark, if we could just talk…” he tried.

“We _are_ talking.”

Peter held up his hands as the suit began to approach. “No, NO…! I mean, in person… we could sort this out, or―”

“Okay, fine.” Then the helmet’s face plate started to pull back, revealing the self-made billionaire. Peter’s face went pale. Tony took another step forward, causing the teen to take a hesitant step back. “We’re talking.” Raising both arms and charging up his blasters, Stark flashed a bitter smile. “Hi.”

The growing whine of the beams emanating from the gauntlets gave Peter pause. Was he actually trying to hurt him?

He took a few more steps back. “M-Mr. Stark, if this is a training exercise, we should probably do this inside… I don’t think this is the best place.”

“No, Parker,” Tony snarled, cocking his head. “We’re doing this _now_!” Without pause, he fired off a blast.

“Whoa, man!” Peter gasped, springing out of the way.

Another shot was fired again, which he dodged, followed by another. Tony crossed his arms in front of him, whipping them out and unleashing a continuous beam from his chest, aiming it at Peter as he frantically scrambled across the roof, the laser slicing through everything it came in contact with just mere inches from the teen. When the kid reached the other end of the building, he glanced over his shoulder then dove off.

“PETER!!” he bellowed, tone beyond furious, turning off the cannon as he charged over to the edge before taking off after him, his helmet closing shut.

“Holy SHIT!!” the kid gasped, shooting out a line and grabbing onto it with his other hand.

“You think it’s okay to steal from me??” Tony hollered, his voice rising in pitch. “You thought I wouldn’t find out??”

“What??” Peter shouted over his shoulder, sending another web to the next building. “What are you talking about?!”

“I got video evidence, kid! It’s not looking good for you right now!!”

“‘Video evidence’…?” Peter murmured to himself, shaking his head. “What’s he talking about?” Iron Man held out an arm, charging another shot and letting it fly. The kid’s eyes widened just slightly as he yanked himself up on his web at the last second, narrowly missing the beam by a hair. “Dude, stop shooting at me…!” the teen squeaked.

He tried to send out another line, the webshooter malfunctioning for a split second before complying. He swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat. He didn’t have long before it stopped working. What would happen then?

A few more blasts sent his way made him flinch despite his spidey sense giving him ample time to adjust accordingly.

“Oh, god…” Peter breathed softly, his eyes briefly scanned the streets below as he whizzed by. “He’s actually gonna kill me…”

Just as he rounded a corner, his webshooter shocked him, alerting him of its defeat. His stomach tossed and turned as he began speeding towards the ground. At this rate he could definitely sprain something, which he couldn’t afford to deal with at this point. While it wasn’t the best option, he involuntarily shut his eyes to prepare for the impact…

…only to find no such thing.

-

Tony turned the corner sharply, searching furiously for the teen but finding him nowhere in sight. He exhaled through his nose.

“Friday, track Peter,” ordered he as he came to a halt. He doubted the kid would resort to hiding in an alleyway. “Where is he?”

“Boss, even if his AI were online,” Friday started carefully. “I don’t know if… I can.”

“You can. I programmed you, remember?” Sounding impatient, he added, “Override it anyway.” He scoured the streets below, grimacing.

“…Maybe you shouldn’t―”

He let out a harsh sigh. “If I wanted to have my ear talked off, I’d call Fury,” he retorted bitterly, taking off when Friday eventually put up the young hero’s location… though its slow speed pissed him off a bit. He knew very well what it was doing.

“…Are you… attempting to harm Peter?”

Tony said nothing.

-

On another rooftop, Peter came tumbling down, a portal overhead closing just as he landed with a painful grunt. He groaned as he sat up.

“What just happened??” Peter gasped, panting, tugging off his mask and hunching over.

“Relax,” grumbled an older man with a large red cape of sorts as he landed nearby, his attention on the sky. Peter straightened up at the other’s arrival. “I’m a friend.”

“…O-okay, um… Who… How…” He gulped. “Wait, did YOU do that??” he slowly got to his feet, pointing a few blocks away to where he had been.

Then Strange whirled on him, his Cloak blowing in the breeze. He then proceeded to walk over to him, Peter stepping back a bit. His eyes were fiery when they met the teen’s brown ones, but he didn’t seem to have qualms with him. Something about him felt intimidating but not threatening. “Yes,” he answered, waving his hand once, “Now, look, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you need to _leave_.”

“B… I _can’t_ …!” Peter gestured with an arm. “Mr. Stark’s after _me_ for some reason!”

Stephen’s eyes followed Peter’s indication, frowning. “What?” He squinted, giving the other a once-over. He seemed familiar. This was that kid… the one that Tony was mentoring or something, right? Then why…?

“I can’t go back to my house,” the teen continued quieter, shaking his head, looking conflicted. After what he had seen… “He’ll get to Aunt May,” he muttered to himself, taking a step back.

“Oh, I see you’ve met the universe’s biggest asshole,” came Tony’s voice from behind, the Iron Man suit slowly peeking out from the edge of the building. He hovered for a bit before finally planting his feet just a few yards away.

Stephen lifted his head as he tensed up. “Hi, pot… it’s the kettle,” he hissed, tilting his head just slightly as he conjured up two bright orange shields. The Cloak fanned itself behind him.

Iron Man took two steps forward. “Out of the way, Strange.”

The doctor simply shook his head, shuffling just a bit so he was in front of Peter now. “Nah,” he answered with a growl, wrinkling his nose, the light of his magic illuminating his face. “You won’t be hurting anyone else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for heartbreak? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING
> 
> VIOLENCE AND BLOOD  
> HURT PETER AND STRANGE  
> YELLING  
> TEARS, ANGST, AND HEARTBREAK
> 
> WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING

“Hurting anyone?” the billionaire chuckled dryly. “I don’t think I have.”

“Figured you’d say something like that…” Stephen glared. “Arrogant as ever.”

“I’m confused. I thought we were talking about _you_ ,” he countered with an obvious shit-eating grin, walking forward. The Cloak motioned for Peter to stay behind Strange as the two kept their distance, making sure Iron Man was in front of them at all times. “Listen, Strange, you don’t know what you’re messing with here.” He shrugged. “Me and the kid were just having a little chat.”

“I don’t care,” the other retorted. “You pose a threat to _him_ ―” He indicated Peter with a nod of his head. “―AND this city.” He squinted. “I need you to stand down.”

Iron Man came to a stop. This was getting them nowhere. “Mm, well, I can’t exactly _do_ that, so…” He swiftly brought up an arm, blasting a beam at Stephen. “Bye!”

The Cloak immediately folded over Strange, the blow singeing the fabric and knocking the sorcerer off the roof. Peter jumped back, looking back and forth between the ledge and Iron Man. “Holy sh― Did… did you just―”

“He’s fine,” Tony replied dismissively. “So, Peter…” he started, strutting over to him. “…about what I was saying earlier…”

The young hero began to back away. “Right.” He laughed nervously, his eyes darting briefly to the side. “When you were… _chasing_ me…?” he pressed hesitantly.

“Yeah!” the other said, sounding a bit too jovial. “Exactly. So what I’m hearing from _you_ is that…” He gestured to the teen with a finger, then moved it in a circle as he came to a stop. “…on top of _stealing_ , you’ve been _lying_ to me…”

“Lying? St…” Peter stopped as well. “Wh… what do you mean? I don’t―”

Stephen’s voice interrupted, his tone short, “Stark… Enough.”

“H― Y-yeah, _maybe_ we should… talk about this somewhere else…?” Peter quietly interjected, though his comment went unnoticed.

Turning to watch as the doctor descended onto the roof, Tony snarled, as though peeved that he was alright despite knowing otherwise. He whirled on him and pointed a finger. “YOU stay out of this. This _doesn’t_ concern you!”

“What, like it didn’t concern me when you were shooting at a _child_?!” the other challenged, stepping forward. “Face it,” he rumbled in a low voice, his eyes flickering across the other’s face. “You’re losing it, Stark.”

Tony took a step towards the sorcerer. “I don’t think you want this fight―”

Stephen nodded slowly, squinting. “Oh, I think I do.”

“―‘cause you’re gonna lose.”

“…You first.”

Tony chuckled, then stepped back. Almost as soon as he did, he aimed one of his repulsors at Strange, but the Cloak was quick to yank him out of the way when he wasn’t quick enough to create a shield. Then, without warning, he turned away from the doctor, charging straight for Peter. Dropping his mask, the boy went to spring back but then Iron Man was stopped in his tracks, a beam of energy securely fastened around his boots. He looked back, spotting Stephen and the Cloak holding him back with the lasso. He let out a breath of amusement.

“You’re kidding.” The sorcerer simply shrugged in response.

Turning up his boosters, he managed to pull himself away from the other’s grasp and, in turn, he barreled into Peter, taking hold of his suit as he flew off. Stephen wasted no time in following, but the chase ended quick as Stark stopped just above an intersection, spinning around before launching Peter into the brick wall of a nearby building.

The teen coughed as the wind was knocked out of him, Tony not even waiting for him to catch his breath before rushed him, grabbing his throat and pulling him back before slamming him against the wall again.

Stephen came to a stop several meters away, gaze frantically flickering back and forth. The Cloak tugged nervously. Dammit. They were too close to each other. Making a portal could easily separate them but the last thing he wanted was to cut someone in half.

Strange slowly levitated closer, but kept his distance. His breathing began to pick up at the sight of the young hero scrambling to breathe. A bitter sense of déjà vu began to leave a metallic taste in his mouth. He swallowed.

“Tony, _stop_ …” he started gently, unable to hide the urgency in his voice. He held his hands up slightly, both trembling terribly. “I need you to _think_ about what you’re doing.” He shook his head once. “Please… You don’t want to hurt him. You _don’t_.” Iron Man looked to Peter. “Be mad at him, that’s fine. But don’t do this.” His face melted sadly. “He’s just a kid…”

“M-Mi…ster… Stark…” the kid groaned softly, his doey brown eyes pleading as he tried to reach an arm out.

“You care about him…” Stephen opened his hands slightly. “You can’t say otherwise.” Tony glanced down at the kid’s hand, his grip loosening just a little, slowly but surely raising his own armored hand up to Peter’s gloved one. Then he paused, lowering his head. “ _Stark_ ,” the sorcerer tried again, scowling and gritting his teeth when the other still refused to move. “Let… him… GO…” Tony smiled.

A split second later, he slammed the kid further into the building, causing Peter to shout in pain. The billionaire laughed, the sound almost malicious. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Strange!” Tony’s voice came through the suit’s speaker, the tone stern yet amused. “Stay back.” Strange growled, his eyes flickering from Peter to the metal hand clasped tightly around his throat. Like hell he would.

“Sir, please!” Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his hand hitting the side of the suit’s arm. He whimpered. “That hurts!”

“STARK, let him GO!!” the sorcerer boomed, quickly raising his hands, clapping them together and then pulling them apart, creating a bright red aura. “I won’t ask again!”

“Fine,” Tony grumbled, charging up one of his repulsors right by the young hero’s face, “then _don’t_.”

Peter let out a strangled gasp, kicking his legs a bit and pulling at the other’s hand. With a grunt, he sent one of his heels into the chest of the armor, sending Tony flying. Taking in a big gulp of air, the teen stayed where he was, on the verge of hyperventilating, eyes wide and full of terror, fingers pressed so firmly against the brick that they turned white beneath his gloves. He took in another shaky breath. This couldn’t be happening. Tony wanted to hurt him, that much was clear… But why??

When he regained his balance, Iron Man immediately started to charge up his rockets. At the same time Strange’s crimson lasso lashed out, wrapping itself around one of Stark’s armored arms. Regardless, it did little to slow his momentum when he finally took off, pushing forward, his other arm extended.

“Mr. S-Stark!!” Peter screeched. “STOP!!”

“Don’t let him reach the kid!” Stephen hurriedly said to the Cloak, which swiftly pulled away from Strange and went diving for Iron Man’s other arm.

Rendered flightless, the doctor began to fall, his weight abruptly pulling Tony off course. Still the billionaire tried, that is until the Cloak wrapped itself around his opposite hand, pulling him down as well. Peter took this opportunity to start climbing to the top after he caught his breath. Was that guy going to be okay?

As the two fell, Tony turned up the heat on his repulsor, the beam burning a solid hole through the Cloak, forcing it to let go. Noticing the damage, Strange immediately drew out a portal in the ground below. “Asshole…” he grumbled, falling through it, closing it just seconds before Tony crashed into the concrete.

High in the sky, Stephen appeared, falling through another portal. The Cloak slowly flew up to where he was, wrapping itself over his shoulders, and they began to descend slower. He took hold of some of its fabric in his hand, frowning. “Sorry, old friend…” he muttered, examining the burns before returning his attention back to the ground. “…Let’s get this over with.”

“Aaand _how_ are you planning on doing that exactly…?” chimed in Tony, flying up to appear beside him, his arms crossed.

-

Back on the rooftop, Peter flinched as a loud cracking sound seemingly ripped through the sky, and he spotted Tony and Stephen struggling on the roof the building they were previously on, the former grasping the latter by the jaw. Beneath his feet, the Cloak remained pinned, trying yet failing tremendously at freeing itself. The young man let out a small gasp, backing up and getting a running start as he sprung over to the other complex, latching onto the side of it and crawling upwards.

“I’m sorry…” Iron Man shouted. “I don’t know if I heard you right. What was that about ‘getting this over with’?” He squeezed the other man’s jaw, causing him to let out a cry of pain. “Guess your magic didn’t do much, huh?”

Stephen blinked several times, barely able to focus on the man in front of him. “Not… trying… to hurt you.”

“Aw… I’m touched. Really.” He scoffed, tightening his grip, making the doctor grimace. “Though not very smart since… _I_ am .” Stephen suddenly hissed through his teeth, a wave of nausea rushing over him. Tony paused then smirked behind his helmet. “Hey, doc…” His smile grew. “…how’s your head?” He cooed mockingly, “Thor didn’t mess you up _too_ bad, did he…?”

The sorcerer blinked, his bright eyes widening. “How did you…”

The other shook his head once. “I didn’t.” He brought back a hand, balling it up. “But thanks for telling me,” he hummed, slamming his armored fist into the other’s head, sending him careening over the edge of the building. The Cloak immediately dove after him once it managed to pull itself out from under the brunette’s boot.

Peter let out a startled cry and, with no hesitation, he ran over to send a web to the doctor, but his webshooter sputtered pitifully. “Come on…” he mumbled, shaking his hand as if that would help it. Tony began to approach.

“Shooter’s not working for you, kid?” he inquired, a bit of scorn in his tone. “That’s too bad. Should’ve stuck with your old ones. Those tend to…” He came to a stop when he was a few feet away, cocking his head. “…burn out.”

The teen looked up at him with big eyes, then shuffled back over to the edge, peering over. Down below, Strange lay immobile on the ground, a flagpole just above him bent from impact. “No…” he whispered, dread washing over him. The Cloak floated nearby, drooping, clearly upset… as much as an enchanted garment could be. A crowd began to gather around the man and Peter’s face fell as he turned back to face Tony. “Why are you doing this…?” he asked quietly.

“Maybe… if you hadn’t stolen from me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” said Stark as he calmly stepped out from his suit, which then closed afterwards.

Peter crinkled his brow, bowing his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about― I didn’t steal from you,” he answered in a low voice, sounding a bit frustrated. “Stop saying that…”

“Kid… I’m not in the mood.”

He whipped his head up, his expression hurt. Louder, he insisted, “No, _seriously_ , Mr. Stark, I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about…!”

“Really?” Tony then proceeded to dig around in his coat, pulling out a stack of documents and flipping them over to Peter. The kid took them, giving the older man a few confused looks before scanning the pages. The genius tapped his index finger against the files. “So you’re trying to tell me _this_ isn’t you?”

“…I…” He gaped at the documents, flipping back and forth between a couple files. His name… his name was clearly written on them. “That’s― that’s not me!” he managed to choke out. Tony pulled back, turning his head away at his words, his expression irritated. Peter’s eyes grew. “I didn’t sign that! I wouldn’t do that to you― Mr. Stark,” he gestured with a hand towards the files, “you have to believe me!”

“Do I…?” Tony murmured, turning back to look down at the teen. “See, I have video footage of _you_ in my office… stealing my things, so I’m having a really hard time believing you.” Before the kid could form a rebuttal, he tapped his knuckle against his suit, which promptly lit up and flashed video footage of Peter in Stark’s lab. Moments passed and he raised a finger, taking a breath, about to say something else, but he stopped himself. Immediately following this, he tried again, pointing to the image on the hologram. He raised a brow. “Now, tell me again why that’s _not_ you…?”

Peter’s mouth moved but no words came out. He swallowed hard, his eyes falling under Stark’s stern gaze. “I-I wasn’t… I wasn’t in your office…” he whispered, more to himself, his cheeks dusted light pink.

Tony shook his head, waving his hands a bit. “My lab,” he corrected quickly, startling Peter, who was now looking up at him with a wide-eyed expression. “Look, Pete, it doesn’t matter… You were there, and now you’re _lying_ to me about it.”

Lying? Peter let out a soft breath that felt like it was being physically pulled from his body. Though well aware he wasn’t, those words still stung. He would never go through Tony’s stuff, not without permission… heck, even if he _had_ permission, he would still hesitate. And being in the lab so late at night, alone? Out of the question. Besides, he didn’t recall ever being anywhere near it.

-

Down on the sidewalk below, people began to crowd around the unconscious doctor. The cacophony of the terrified and puzzled voices began to stir him.

“Oh my goodness, is he alright?”

“Who _is_ that…?”

“That’s a superhero, isn’t it??”

“Are we under attack?!”

“Wait, I think he’s waking up!”

Stephen moaned as he sat up, a jolt of pain firing through his back. A hand went to check it, quickly patting down his clothing. When he pulled it back to inspect, he found blood coating his fingertips. Great.

Taking in a breath, he held it as his eyes looked to each of the faces crowding around him, their voices garbled and incoherent. One figure moved forward, its red hue causing his heart to panic. But when his vision cleared up a bit, he released the breath he was holding. Relieved, he reached a hand out. The Cloak tenderly helped him to his feet, the people crowded around him letting out surprised sounds.

Everything hurt. His head was cut just a bit― he could feel the warmth of blood pooling near the top of his forehead. And he could hardly stand.

“Sir, are you alright…?” a voice abruptly cut through the unintelligible mess, snapping him out of his daze.

“…Guh… Y-y…eah… I think so,” he breathed, wincing as a car honked at another car. “What happened…?”

A woman indicated the building. “You fell from up there,” she said, sounding worried. As he took a step forward, she bit her lip, turning to another woman, likely her friend. “Should we call the police…?”

“H― no…” he wheezed, taking another step, willing himself to look up in spite of the throbbing pain. “The… kid…” he mumbled. The Cloak pat his shoulder. “I n… need to… get up there.”

-

The billionaire squinted, his expression hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Pete, just tell me the truth.” He let out a breath. “…I mean, selling my blueprints to spies?” he uttered, barely audible, like he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. His eyes flickered down to the documents still held in the other’s hands. With a short growl, he snatched them from the boy and shoving it inside his jacket, that action alone seeming to make the kid’s heart twinge a bit. “What was going through your head??”

“W…”

He fanned out his fingers. “What made you think doing ANY of that was acceptable…?” When he didn’t get a response, he shook his head. Quieter, with a sigh, he said, “You’re better than that.” He crossed his arms, looking as though he was burned. “You know what this whole experience has told me? I _can’t_ trust you.”

Peter, who was focusing on the ground, flinched. After a few moments passed, he cleared his throat. “H-how… how do I fix this…?” he whispered helplessly with his arms out, dropping them when he looked up at his idol with glossy eyes.

“You _can’t_.”

“But I-I don’t…” The kid looked away briefly, hissing through his teeth. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t remember doing that― I DIDN’T do this, Mr. Stark, _please_!” Tony was avoiding his gaze now. “I’m telling you the truth…!” he tried desperately as he took a step forward, using his hands for emphasis, his voice straining as he spoke.

“Parker, _stop_ …”

The boy looked to be at a loss. “B… sir, I―”

**_Insect._ **

“STOP! TALKING!!” the man snapped, eyes wild, his sheer volume startling Peter into silence. The boy's hand instantly went up to shield his throat as he took a step back.

Then, Stark, pulling back a bit, held up his hand before dropping it and rubbing it against the side of his slacks. “I _get_ it. Maybe you didn’t― I get that.” He spread his hands, palms up. “But it happened.” He pressed his lips together. “I put a lot of faith in you, kid, but you let me down. It doesn’t look good… I can’t just look the other way― my things weren’t yours to sell!” He ground his teeth then motioned behind himself with a wide sweeping arm.

“I mean, how… _exactly_ … do you expect me to get my stuff back, hm? Track it down??” His arm fell and he scoffed. “See, ‘cause a lot of that stuff you―” He jabbed an accusatory finger in Peter’s face. “―sold is older than you, so it’s going to be a bit _harder_ to do that…” He took a step forward and Peter took one back.

“So why’d you do it?” he grumbled. “Wanted to make a quick buck, maybe set your dear Aunt May up for life…?” He bowed his head for a second. “I can see why,” he shrugged, taking another step forward. “Not the best neighborhood, maybe you wanna get out, see the sights… or whatever it is kids want these days…”

He trailed off, stopping his gait and staring down at Peter with a piercing look that made the teen feel small. His voice grew stern when he spoke again, as did his visage.

“Where’d you sell it…?” he pressed bitingly, squinting incredulously. “Or did you _conveniently_ forget that too?”

A couple of tears began streaming down Peter’s silent, shock-stricken face.

Tony’s eyes fluttered and he immediately bowed his head. He scowled. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, exasperated, glaring daggers at the young man. He pointed to himself. “But if you show up at my lab again, expect me to personally hand you over to the authorities.” Turning away, he stepped back into his armor, taking off, leaving the young man alone on the roof.

Peter didn’t move immediately, tearing his eyes away from the now-distant speck that was Iron Man to glance down at his mask, which was on the ground. He bent down to pick it up, rubbing his thumb along the fabric before tightening his grip around it.

A soft grunt suddenly emanated from the nearby ledge, Strange clawing his way onto the roof, with the Cloak gingerly lifting him up the best it could without hurting him. He puffed out a breath as he reached the top, cautious in getting to his feet, a few times almost falling if it weren’t for the assistance. He gave the Cloak a barely audible “thanks” in return, focusing his attention ahead now, alert.

Spotting the teen unharmed, Stephen let out a sigh of relief, though it was short-lived. Without warning, Peter let out a sound akin to a dying bird, practically slamming his fists against his eyes, which he squeezed shut. The teen doubled over, his hands still pressed firmly against his face. Pulling them back for a second as he stared down at them through bleary eyes, tears poured down his face in buckets and, once he took notice of the sorcerer’s presence and recognized his disheveled and bruised appearance, the boy trembled and once again slapped his hands over his face, weeping through them. “I’m so _sorry_ …!” he choked.

The sound of the boy’s cries alone made the doctor’s chest hurt, and he could only bring himself to shake his head. “Oh, no…” he rasped. He was careful to approach, keeping his steps light as though the teen were about to take off at any moment. “Kid…” he tried, beginning to extend his hand despite a slight resistant tug from the Cloak, but the boy jumped back anyway.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” he whispered again, shaking his head and gasping, his big tear-filled eyes wildly scouring the bright colors lighting up the streets below. Looking to Stephen again, his expression falters. Taking in a shaky breath and ducking his head, speaking louder and faster now, he sobbed, “I… Ineedtogo, Ineedtogo… m’sorry…” Furiously brushing tears off his cheeks, he swallowed, his throat tight. “I-I need to go…” he repeated as he tugged on his mask and shoved past him, jumping over to the next building and climbing down the fire escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol writing this I wanted to correct the "insect" line like "NOT AN INSECT BRUH lol"
> 
> I make jokes to hide my pain haha :')


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Stan Lee...

Rooftop of Parker Residence

\--

Seven fifty-two.

It was around that time of night where the sky had already faded from pink, the surroundings beginning to appear blue as the moon began to creep its way into the firmament. Peter sat on the cold concrete, his legs lazily swinging over the edge. He stared down at the ground, his eyes occasionally wandering towards the cars that would sometimes pass by.

He hadn’t spoken to May yet, though he was almost eighty percent sure she knew he was there― she just wasn’t saying anything.

Ned had also gave him a few buzzes and, by a _few_ , there were about fifty texts at least, not even counting the ones he likely received online. He would smile at his friend’s enthusiasm if it wasn’t for the fact that everything around him felt like it was crashing and burning.

As time went on, he pulled his knees up to his chest, his feet slipping off a few times but he paid no mind. Wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees, his eyes scanned the rows of apartment buildings but did little to register what he was seeing. The distant sound of a train could be heard, almost serenading the night sky as it grew darker. It was then that Peter stirred, noting the shadows dancing along his suit. He lifted his hand to his throat, gently brushing it across the skin. With a heavy sigh, he let it fall across his knee.

He had to go inside.

-

“Peter…” May breathed, holding a shaky hand to her mouth as she gave her distraught nephew a once-over. The boy, now dressed in his normal clothes, had quietly exited his bedroom, his demeanor dejected. He stopped once he pulled his door shut, wide eyes staring at May, unsure of what to say. Watching his expression melt upon seeing her standing there, she rushed forward to frantically pull him into an embrace as he immediately began to sob into her shoulder. “Oh my GOD!!” she squeaked, throwing off her glasses, which clattered across the floor, patting his back reassuringly, her other hand going up to brush through his hair.

He was there. He was alive. He was _alive_ …

“Where have you been??” she gasped, pulling back, one of her hands falling to cup his cheek. But Peter knew that she was well aware. The practically endless amount of calls from her were clear indications of that. She furiously brushed some hair out of her face, stepping back, sighing. Why didn’t she see this coming? “You were on the news… I… I saw you…” She couldn’t see him― she didn’t have to― and she couldn’t even _begin_ to imagine how frightened he had been… She turned away in an attempt to hide her glossy eyes. “Oh, _god_ , Peter.”

Oh. Oh, that’s right… Just another thing to go wrong. As important as it was, he could hardly bring himself out of the numbness that surrounded him to fully worry about it.

Closing his eyes, exhausted, he asked, “Did… did anyone see…?”

Puzzled for only a moment, realization quickly dawned on her. His identity. “No,” she assured, shaking her head quickly, her hand resting on her chin and her eyes focused vaguely on the floor. Peter blinked his eyes open to slowly look up. “You… you were too fast. They couldn’t…” She gulped, her hand falling. “…they couldn’t keep up with you.” He nodded in response, watching as she began to pace. He bit his lip nervously.

“I’m okay, May…” he tried after a minute, voice cracking. “I’m fine…”

May abruptly whirled on him. “ _Don’t_ , Peter…! You can’t―” She brought up both fists, pressing them against her temples and then dropping them to her sides. “You need to stop lying to me… I―” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Why… _why_ was I seeing IRON MAN attacking my baby on the news?! Huh?” Peter ducked his head in shame and a quiet sob escaped her lips at the sight, causing her to stumble back a bit. “God… that is NOT _okay_!” she went on, tears flicking off her eyelashes as she blinked, a hand immediately going up to swipe them away. She sniffled, placing her hands on her hips, her own eyes downcast. “You can’t keep saying this is ‘okay’…!”

They remained there for a moment and after a while, Peter whimpered. “I’m… I’m _sorry_ …” he choked.

“No,” May interjected with another shake of her head, making him look up. Her attention was focused elsewhere, though the resolution in her expression made his heart race. “You don’t need to apologize for this.”

“Wh… what’re you…” He looked on as she walked away, blinking twice before he got the nerve to follow, although they didn’t travel far.

“I knew that Tony Stark was a bad influence…” she muttered to herself, stopping by the kitchen counter and grabbing the telephone, which had been laying on its side. “I never thought…” She glanced up at him, then back down at the phone. “I can’t do this anymore,” she said louder. “You’re not going to be seeing him again.”

“What…?” he breathed softly. “W― No… you can’t…”

May began to dial on the phone. For a second she paused, her eyes falling to her nephew’s neck. She glared at the clearly irritated skin, looking back to the phone once more, her grip tightening around it. “Peter, I’m not _asking_ … I almost _lost you_ today,” she hissed.

He held out a hand. “No, Aunt May, wait…!”

She stopped to look in his direction. “Peter…” she sighed, slightly exasperated.

His face scrunched up painfully and he hesitantly lowered his eyes, ashamed. “ _Please_ …”

Peter could just barely make out his aunt’s sympathetic look and he immediately felt a rush of guilt wash over him like a wave. He took in a big breath, almost hesitant to let it go, turning his head away. “…I-I know it’s…” He sniffled. “I _know_ I haven’t talked to you… about what’s going on, but…” His shoulders began to shake as his breath hitched in his throat, roughly brushing his arm across his cheek and clenching his teeth as tears threatened to spill.

Broken record, Peter. She doesn’t want to hear that.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a dismal cry escaping his lips, some spit spraying from his mouth when it did. He began to rub one of his arms against the crook of his other arm, as if to try and comfort himself. He drew in a few breaths, hiccupping quietly. “I know you’re worried about me…” he continued, voice barely coherent. Stop. He shook his head, his hair moving with the motion, his vision blurring. “And I know…” None of this makes sense. “…I-I-I know it’s asking a lot to… to understand―” STOP.

An involuntary shout seemed to shoot out of his body, causing it to shudder terribly as he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. May, startled, practically slammed the phone back on the counter and rushed over to him, but kept her distance for a moment. Her mere presence started to weigh down on him.

It hurts…

How could he think of asking that? What was he even asking? To reconsider letting him stick around with Tony Stark? Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to at this point, especially considering what just happened. He was horrible. How much more could he ask of her?

He then opened his watery eyes to look around but the mere action seemed to make the situation worse. He took in a shaky breath, some tears pouring down his cheeks, his eyes lost and terrified. “I just… _need_ s-someone right now…?” he blubbered. Feeling a pair of hands carefully brush along his back, his eyes widened and he let out another cry, covering his face and bending over, his head nearly coming in contact with the floor. “G― I’m so sorry…!”

Settling down beside him, May rested her chin gently on the back of his head, adjusting her legs under her in order to situate herself. Something told her they would be there for while. She let out a breath through her nose, both a mixture of sadness and amusement. Too kind for his own good…

“When did I get such a good kid…?” she murmured. Her words seemed to make him flinch and shiver, which she followed up by rubbing his back. One of his hands found her knee, gripping onto the fabric of her pants. “Okay…” she said. “I won’t…” She swallowed, her stomach churning uncomfortably. There was so much she wanted to say… to do, but Peter didn’t need that now. She knew that. “I won’t do anything yet. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I think Mr. Stark hates me…” he whispered suddenly, tightening and loosening his grasp. Surprised, May opened her mouth to object but instead found she had nothing to say to that.

-

The two of them sat there for about ten minutes, with May rubbing Peter’s back and Peter mumbling incoherently about something that May couldn’t completely understand. In the end, she decided that they should drop it for the time being. Since he hadn’t been home in several hours, May decided to whip him up something to eat. Although dinner was quiet, she tried to talk a little bit about school to try to take his mind off of everything else. He didn’t seem too interested in engaging in conversation but did his best to offer her a few smiles, despite the fact that she could clearly see that they were forced. Ultimately, they ended up watching a movie in order to calm Peter’s nerves, but that also did little to help. Nonetheless, he appreciated her efforts. While he couldn’t exactly say his spirits were lifted, they certainly weren’t as low as before.

After about two hours or so, she suggested that he should go to bed, letting him know that her door would be open if he needed anything. Maybe tomorrow would be better and they could sort everything out then.

And so there he laid, staring at his wall, waiting, finding it hard to sleep.

The events from earlier kept playing in his mind, the images almost dancing along the wall due to his tired state, which of course made him groan in frustration. It wouldn’t stop. Pressing his hands into his eyes, he pulled one hand away, thrusting it against the wall as though it may obstruct the memory somehow. He just wanted to sleep…

After about thirty minutes passed by, sleep still refusing to do him a solid, something in the back of his mind made him jump, though it wasn’t necessarily a dangerous feeling. Turning over in his bed, his eyes flickered across his room. Near his desk, just above it, something hovered. It was a man dressed in deep blue. He was clearly there since he immediately reacted upon noticing the teen’s expression, though he was translucent. Peter’s face twisted in shock, slightly disturbed.

He gasped, “There’s a ghost in my room…” He gave the other a once-over, watching the man sigh before focusing his attention on him. “Awesome,” he whispered, eyes wide with concern, glancing towards the door briefly.

“…Not exactly,” the man muttered, his hands resting on his knees.

Peter studied the other’s face. “You’re not here to hurt me,” he deduced.

“No.”

“O…kay, then.” He nodded, swallowing. “…Who are you?”

The dark-haired man raised his head. “My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,” he sighed heavily, his dour tone suggesting he was tired of saying it but for what reason Peter didn’t know why. “I saved you earlier, remember?”

That was it! He _knew_ he recognized him from somewhere. “Oh, yeah! You’re that guy who―” Wait… “Oh, god,” the teen gaped, abruptly sitting up in his bed. “Did you _die_??”

Stephen wrinkled his nose. “NO, I didn’t _die_.”

“What, so you’re―” Peter’s eyes darted to the side. “You’re not a ghost?”

The man squinted, his eyes wandering again, this time to the luminous crystal-like formations around him. He inhaled, going to speak, then stopped. He pursed his lips. “Let’s just say my body’s somewhere else…”

Peter made a face. “So you have some sort of… psychic connection between your physical and your non-corporeal body?” He sniffed. “Sans the whole being dead thing.” How did that even work? It sounded so cool though. When he received a noncommittal nod of sorts in reply, he had to smile. “Okay, so it’s not like The Sixth Sense.”

Strange blinked, something akin to amusement flashing across his face. Smart kid. Then, with a shake of his head, he said, “Look, I’m just going to cut straight to the point. Remind me who you are…” He moves a hand in a small sweeping motion. “…and why Tony Stark seems to have a grudge against you…?”

“Oh.”

For a moment he blanks, silently slipping out from under his blanket and jumping down onto the floor. Was this really happening? Sure, he encountered weird things sometimes… the Avengers probably see this sort of thing on the daily, but this… There was a translucent guy― not a ghost― who looked like a magician in his room. And he was asking about Tony Stark. Definitely not normal.

“I-I’m Peter… Parker,” he answered after staring at the man for a while. When he doesn’t immediately get a response, he clears his throat. “Um, I know Mr. Stark because I’m… Spider-Man―” The brunette tilts his head. “―H-how did you know where to find me?”

Stephen raised a brow. “Oh, come on,” he scoffs. “It wasn’t that hard.” When the other goes to object, he speaks again. “Face it, kid, you’re not exactly _great_ at hiding where you change costume,” the man replied, causing Peter to shrug and nod in agreement. “You’re just lucky that New Yorkers tend to be a selectively nosy bunch…”

“Right…”

“So, again…” Strange’s eyes wandered around the room for a moment. When he spoke, his tone was almost biting. “…why is _Iron Man_ … sending drones all over the city after one teenager?”

“I…” Peter ducked his head, eyes scanning the floor. He winced, sniffling again. “…I dunno.”

“Bullshit,” the other growled, startling him. He glared, incredulous. “You can’t seriously mean to tell me that you don’t―”

Peter raised his arms. “I-I’m not kidding…!” he exclaimed, gesturing with a hand to the window, indicating outside. “Mr. Stark just started coming after me!” He motions to himself with both hands now, his energy level falling drastically as he let them fall to his sides. “I didn’t… _do_ anything…”

Stephen lowered his eyes, mulling over something. “Alright,” he started, “say for the sake of argument I believe you.” His piercing blue-green eyes find Peter’s brown ones, seeming to shift in the dark but only briefly. “You’re saying he has NO reason to come after you?”

The teen shook his head. “I mean, he kept saying something about… me stealing from his lab, but… I haven’t been anywhere near it.” Strange straightened up, nodding slowly. “Not recently anyway.” Even if he had, that wouldn’t necessarily warrant an attack. Tony would have just talked to him.

“Of course,” Strange murmured, “and you’d have no reason to do so.” When the kid gave him a quizzical stare, he blinked. “Ah…” He drew in a breath then let it out as quickly as he got it.

“Whenever I would hear about Stark or… personally converse with him― which, mind you, I very seldom do…” He rolled his eyes. “…and I’d like to keep it that way…” he added under his breath, “…the topic of a new Avenger would sometimes come up.” He either ignored or didn’t register the awestruck expression growing on Peter’s face before it changed to something indistinguishable. “Hell, almost anyone could be an Avenger nowadays if they wanted them to,” he grumbled sourly. The sorcerer rolled one of his wrists, keeping his eyes downcast as he continued.

“In any case what I’m getting at… Stark could probably prattle on for hours, but I’m pretty sure he was talking about you.” He clicked his tongue, ducking his head. “It just makes no sense why this would happen _now_ .” He looked to Peter, shaking his head once. “Has he done anything… _said_ anything,” the teen lowered his gaze, “that might’ve seem suspicious to you?”

The brunette suddenly chimed in, his eyes wide, “My web shooters.”

“Your… web shooters.”

“Yeah. Earlier my web shooters were malfunctioning…” Peter slipped out of bed, shuffling over to his desk, Strange floating to the other side of the room. On the desk’s surface he had laid his web shooters, which he carefully picked up and held in his hands, frowning down at them. “Like, they completely short-circuited, but I don’t know why.” The doctor furrowed his brow, floating over to Peter’s side and peering over his shoulder to examine the melted and shattered gadgets resting in the other’s palms. “See? I don’t get it… Mr. Stark upgraded them himself.” Setting them down on the table again and stepping back to stand in the middle of his room, he crossed his arms, adding, “They’re new.” He didn’t notice the sorcerer’s visage turn grim, appearing almost disgusted.

“…You ever heard of sabotage?” the doctor mumbled dryly, pulling back and floating back to hover over Peter’s desk once more.

Peter whipped his head up like he had been stung. “What??” He chuckled nervously, shaking, lowering his eyes to the floor. “No, no, Mr. Stark wouldn’t do that.”

“Really?” Strange asked, though his tone sounded harsh, somewhat accusatory. After today’s events, he was surprised the kid was defending the arrogant billionaire. “He’d be able to do it easily if he wanted to,” he added with a huff. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees as he stared down his nose at the teen. The kid shifted uncomfortably.

_“Should’ve stuck with your old ones. Those tend to… burn out.”_

“Even… even if he did,” Peter said carefully, scrunching up his brow at the thought. He felt sick, but maybe that was just dinner. “Why would he?”

The doctor’s expression faltered. He felt for the kid. Obviously he thought highly of Stark, which he couldn’t imagine would be completely healthy considering the past actions and behaviors of the kid’s role model but he had no place to really judge. This had to be tough. “I haven’t the foggiest…” Stephen admitted. “…considering the nature of your relationship.” His eyes flickered about the room. “If I had to wager a guess… I’d say it isn’t in Stark’s interest to purposely induce sabotage.” He blinks, lowers his eyes for a second before looking back at Peter. “This isn’t his doing. Someone put it him up to it.”

“What…? How do you know?”

“I can’t be certain.” Stephen shook his head once. “But if you’re being as honest about this as you say you are, and you did nothing _wrong_ … then we have a major problem.”

“Peter? You okay?” May’s voice called from the other side of his bedroom door, causing his blood to run cold. Struggling to find the words, he looked over to the doctor to warn him only to find him gone, much to his surprise. Doing another doubletake, he faced the door again, his aunt slowly pushing it open after knocking a few times. With her hand resting on the knob, she quickly examined the room then looked at her nephew. “…Who are you talking to? It’s late.”

“Uh, yeah… Yes! May, I-I know,” he stammered quickly, eyes darting in the direction where the doctor had previously been floating. May followed his gaze, only to give him a suspicious look. He sniffed, brushing his nose with his thumb, his hand awkwardly falling to the side before he chose to cross his arms instead. “I was just… talking… to myself,” he decided, shrugging, looking unconvinced by his own words.

For a moment she said nothing. It figures, regarding what happened. He needed his space. She let out a breath then held up a hand, placing it on the door. “Okay… Well, do it quietly, alright?” She offered him a small smile, chuckling softly as she pulled the door closed. “We don’t want to get in trouble with the landlord.”

“Yeah,” he breathed softly, rubbing his arm and patting it once.

“She seems nice,” a voice suddenly uttered beside him. As soon as he spotted a figure out of the corner of his eye, he jumped back with a yelp, only to sigh when he realized it was the doctor again. “Sorry,” he muttered with a bow of his head, noting the other’s distressed appearance.

“Wh― J―” Gritting his teeth, Peter made another glance at the door, curling his hands at Stephen in what the sorcerer figured was some form of threat, which he merely raised an eyebrow at. Stepping towards him, the teen growled under his breath, “How did you do that??”

“The astral plane,” the other simply stated, glancing down at his own form. “Essentially, I can… change your perception, so to speak.”

“So cool.” Stephen cocked his head at his words. “Right, sorry,” he coughed, closing his eyes for a second. He spoke in a hushed voice now, “So what do we do?” His eyes darted to the side. “I mean, I can’t go up against Iron Man.”

“Why not?”

The teen held out an arm. “Because― because― ‘cause he’s _Iron Man_!”

“And you’re… Spider-Man, right?” Stephen blinked, wrinkling his brow. “I fail to see the issue here.”

Yeah, makes _total_ sense. Spider-Man versus Iron Man. That sure wouldn’t create any problems and even MORE trust issues down the line…

“With that being said, you need to do something about those web shooters of yours…”

“Yeah, no, I… I can fix them,” Peter nodded fervently, his eyes downcast. “Well… I still have my other ones,” he added as an afterthought but his voice was so low that Stephen didn’t hear it.

“You can… Alright.” Strange lifted his head, his eyes trained on Peter’s bed frame yet his mind wandered elsewhere. He tilted his head once he gathered his thoughts. “You wouldn’t happen to have a better suit than the one you currently have by any chance, would you…?” he wondered, eyes falling to Peter. He holds up a hand momentarily. “Now, I’m not saying the one you have now is _bad_ … but if Stark’s pulling out all the stocks, I’ll bet he’s probably going to be sending a lot more of his drones than he did this time. You need to be able to take a hit, unlike your…” He raised his brow briefly for emphasis. “…amazing display earlier.” The teen shrugged.

“I mean, he showed me this new suit that he had, but that’s at the Avengers building…” His eyes raised and then widened upon noticing a certain look of contemplation on the doctor’s face. “Oh, god, you’re suggesting we steal it,” he deduced quickly.

“Well, I didn’t _say_ those words exactly, but it’s not a bad idea…”

He shook his head furiously, moving closer to Strange. “No, no, no! We can’t _do_ that…!”

Stephen pressed two fingers against his temple. “Gods, kid, I don’t have time to argue with you over this…” he groaned in exasperation, closing his eyes. Of course, he was well aware there were all sorts of potential issues if they actually went through with it. Breaking and entering, robbery… treason if Stark decided to stretch it. This whole thing was ridiculous. Why was he really going after the kid? None of it was adding up. “Once we figure out what’s going on, we explain everything… It’ll be fine.” He could only hope.

“Okay…” Peter swallowed then cleared his throat. He still looked uncertain. “So, um, you said… you said earlier someone put Mr. Stark up to this― Who would do that?” Was it a bribe? Blackmail?

“Still figuring that part out,” the older man admitted with a puff of air.

“Y-yeah, but we can fix this, right??” He wrung his hands, pressing his lips together tight. “I mean we _have_ to…”

“I don’t know.” The sorcerer frowned. “Besides, he’s not the only problem.”

He swallowed, nervous. “What…? What do you mean?”

“…A few hours ago, I spoke to Thor. No one’s seen him in a while and where I _did_ manage to find him…” His blue-green eyes flashed with anger. “…he was flooding out a whole city block.”

“H― What? No…! He wouldn’t do that. Why would he do that??”

“I don’t know…”

Peter’s blood ran cold and he let out a shallow breath. “So now you’re saying… Thor’s―”

“I mean, it didn’t seem like he knew entirely what he was doing… or at least that he was hurting anyone―” Stephen wrinkled his nose as the teen began to pace the floor, giving him a quick once-over. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Oh, man…” Peter sucked in a sharp breath, puffing it out as he glared at the ground, bringing his hands up to grab the back of his head. “I can’t believe this. This is _insane_.” His face crumpled. “I was just having a normal day. Why…?” He bit his lip.

“Hey…”

“Oh, god…” He shook his head, lacing his fingers in his hair. “…I don’t know what to do.” He drew in another breath as he stopped walking, wide eyes looking to Strange, who looked to be at a loss.

God, what if he had to fight Thor? He was just a kid. Why did he think he could do this?

“Idon’tknowwhatto _do_ ,” he repeated, faster, his breathing picking up some pace. “Now Mr. Stark _hates_ me… He doesn’t trust me anymore, I don’t―”

“W― ‘Hates’ you…?” Stephen closed his eyes, holding up a hand and shaking his head as he descended, standing on the floor. Peter lets out an audible sob as he falls back to lean against the door, his hands rushing to cover his eyes now. “Whoa, kid, wait. Slow down. No one _hates_ you.”

“―I don’t know what I did,” the kid blubbered, not hearing the other’s words, his own voice nearly unrecognizable. He gulped, shaking his head. “I can’t do this, Mr. Strange, I can’t―” He pressed his hands hard against his face as if to prevent tears from shedding. The doctor probably thought he looked pretty stupid right about now. And May… what would she do if she came back and found him like this? He stressed her out enough. And he certainly didn’t feel like crying again, however; he already felt emotionally drained. “Oh, god… what if he doesn’t forgive me…?” he whimpered, his voice partially muffled by his posture and strained with exhaustion.

“Kid.” Seeing the teen flinch, though ever-so-slightly, he cleared his throat and corrected himself, “Peter.” He hesitated in taking a step forward. Despite the fact that he was intangible, his presence might freak the kid out, which was the last thing he wanted. He held up his hands as he approached.

“Hey, hey…” Stephen tried. “I need you to breathe for me… Can you do that?” He got a meek nod in reply. “Okay… It’s okay,” he murmured gently. “You’re alright.” He then took another step, stopping when he was about two feet away. The brunette gradually lowered his hands from his face, his eyes traveling up to meet the older man’s face. “I know you want to run and hide, pal, I get it…”

Peter blinked hard, a tear rolling down his face. His eyes fell to the doctor’s hands as the man held one out. His brow twitched and, though Stephen wasn’t asking for his, he steadily raised it up, holding it underneath the sorcerer’s translucent one. In spite of its appearance, he could vaguely make out something lining the doctor’s fingers. He gasped, sniffling, his heart suddenly feeling heavy. His eyes darted along the other’s skin. Why were they scarred…?

“I know… more than anyone…” Strange continued, his eyes falling to examine his hand as he gently wiggled his fingers, grimacing as they quivered. “…what it’s like to want to go back to a normal life.” Peter bowed his head, averting his gaze, allowing his arm to fall. “To want all of the benefits, but none of the consequences. And yet…” Drawing his fingers into a fist and letting it drop, he focuses his attention back on the teen, frowning as he studied his face. “…responsibility demands that we self-sacrifice.” Noting the kid’s dispirited expression, his own melts sympathetically. He sighs, ducking his head briefly. “I’m sorry you’ve had to shoulder this burden by yourself,” he adds after a period of silence. He lifted his head, tilting it to the side a bit. “But now you don’t have to.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I was finishing up my semester and I've been relaxing at home. On top of that, I had a hard time writing this chapter so to make up for it, I made it extra long. Sound good? :D
> 
> Oh, yeah, and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

Stephen took in a shuddering gasp as he sat up, immediately shutting his eyes and letting out a cry as pain shot through the muscles in his back. He heaved a heavy sigh as he slouched over, his body feeling equally stiff and fragile.

His eyes scanned the room, noting the quiet beeping of a heart monitor in the background as well as some voices outside of the double doors ahead of him. A curtain was partially draw, yet he could still see vacant beds and some movement through the translucent windows. Raising his arm, though not immediately examining it, he could feel the subtle hint of a sharp needle in his vein and the presence of the rough and heavy white blanket laid across his legs. Snippets of the night flashed through his mind as he recalled how he ended up here yet again.

Fighting Iron Man. His injuries. Christine.

And Peter… Poor kid. Bitterly, he began to wonder about whether or not he just made things worse by showing up like he had.

Still, he was sure, he had to be there.

Curling his fingers, which rested down on the bed beside him, he frowned. He was the only one there. Though thankful, he couldn’t help but miss the banter. He wondered if Christine was angry. Probably. And if she isn’t now, she certainly _will_ be, especially if he kept this up.

Considering the fact that he had practically disappeared in the eyes of many of his colleagues… however, with these visits to the hospital, while few, he thought someone would have noticed him at some point. He hissed through his teeth as he attempted to stretch out his back. Or maybe they did, and they just didn’t care. Seemed about just as likely… not that he didn’t deserve it.

His eyes flickered across the room once more, finally landing on his bedside table. Noting a small card with some handwriting on the back resting on it, he picked it up between shaky fingers, flipping it over so he could read it.

“You’re killing me, Strange,” was all it said.

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest. How she put up with him after all these years, he’ll never know.

\--

“ _…a few hours ago. Stark has yet to comment on the matter, though efforts are still being made…_ ”

The voice of the reporter continued to mumble incoherently through the radio, Captain Rogers sitting beside it, looking perturbed. His middle and ring fingers absentmindedly tapped the top of it, his other hand faintly resting against his chin.

Bruce abruptly strode into the room, glaring down at the phone in his hand. He appeared tired, likely due to the fact that he woke to the news broadcasting the recent affair practically all across New York. Needless to say, he was cranky… and a bit impatient.

“Come on, Tony, pick up…” he mumbled urgently, typing into it before holding it up to his ear. When he immediately got no answer, he hung up, letting his arm fall dejectedly.

“Face it, Bruce,” came Natasha’s steady tone as she also walked into the room, pulling on a glove. Steve glanced back briefly to acknowledge her and after they locked eyes, she sighed, focusing on the scientist again. “He’s not going to answer.”

“But I don’t get it.” He shook the phone in his hand as if that would somehow serve to make his point. “…Why would he do this?” He swallowed hard, shaking his head fervently. “ _A…any_ of this…? I just…” Spreading the fingers on his other hand, he shifted to look at Steve, who was still sitting down in silence, facing away from the two of them. “He… he kept saying― I mean he was _insistent_ that… that Peter wasn’t―” His face fell suddenly, his eyes going wide before he blinked furiously, lowering his head. “What if…” His eyes found Natasha’s face, a desperate look swimming in their gaze.

The other pressed her lips together, frowning, a knowing look flashing across her face. “No, Bruce. Don’t do that to yourself,” she said, walking past him to get her shoes. Bruce turned as she did, eyes fixed on her with a serious expression, but he did not take a step forward. He shook the hand with the phone again, slower.

“If he did that because I _said_ something…”

“Tony does what he wants,” Steve suddenly spoke up, sighing. Though his words were accusing in nature, his tone was not. He rested his hand down on top of the radio. “You had no idea that he would… do something like that.” The soldier bowed his head. How could Tony do that? He gave his head a single shake. “None of us did.”

A coat suddenly flew through the air, tackling Bruce, who barely managed to react, catching it and then using his head to move it out of his face as he readjusted it in his arms. He let out a puff of air. “Wh-what are―” Natasha tossed another jacket to Steve, who caught it with his other hand then stood up and shut off the radio.

“It takes a few hours to get there so…” She gave him a once-over then shrugged. “Might as well be warm.”

“We’re not… going over to Tony’s…” Bruce stated, though he sounded a bit unsure. “…right?” He blinked, looking alarmed now as his eyes flickered back and forth between the other two. He held up his hand, though it was slightly obscured by his coat. “No, I mean, we… we’re not… _doing_ that…” He shook his head once as Natasha silently shrugged on her coat. “Guys.” Are they crazy?

Steve looked to his friend, gripping his jacket in his hand and repositioning his hands before he swung it over his shoulders, shoving an arm through. “We have no choice,” he affirmed with a slight raise of his brow. “If he’s willing to do that to a _kid_ …” He swallowed, looking disgusted.

“No…” Bruce shifted his feet, eyes wide. “No, we have a choice… It’s just not a good one,” he muttered.

\--

The next day, Peter was slow to rise. Though his body had hardly been injured, for a manner of speaking, a sort of phantom-pain jolted through him when he sat up in bed. His eyes fell to his desk, examining the space above it. The doctor was gone and it was clearly daytime, which he could tell by the sunlight across his floor and the subtle sound of May shuffling in the kitchen.

He raised his hand, patting it on the bed once lazily before lifting the covers a few times, finally finding his phone buried near the end of his bed by his feet. Grabbing it, he turned it on to find even more texts from Ned, namely a few asking if he was alive. A pang of guilt stabbed through his stomach as he typed out a reply, promptly slapping the phone back down on the bed after he was done, picking it up again to take a look at the time and date. A soft groan escaped from him, though he barely registered that he made the sound.

It was Wednesday, that much was certain, but it was hard to believe that everything had been fine the day prior. Or at least what he considered to be fine. Happy had showed up, Tony was on speaking terms with him…

Yesterday May had told him that it would be okay if he stayed home, but part of him wanted the white noise of his quiet home to be drowned out by the bustling of his high school. Plus, maybe sticking around at Ned’s place after school might be therapeutic… or something.

Slipping out of bed, he landed on the floor with a heavy thud, straightening out his back very tentatively and then rolling his shoulders. Turning to his little closet, he started sifting through his clothes, stopping briefly on his ‘I Survived My Trip to NYC’ shirt before pushing it aside and choosing a long sleeve gray shirt. Looking down at his pajamas, which consisted of a shirt and shorts, he tugged on the shirt before shaking his head and putting the long sleeve on over it. Bending down, he swiped a pair of long pants off the floor, pulling them on, and then headed for the door.

“Hey, tough guy,” May greeted gently as he walked out of his room and stopped in front of her, her arm immediately going up to brush some hair out of his eyes. Her eyes glanced over his clothes. Quieter, she said, “Going to school…? You know you don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I know,” he shrugged.

May’s face softened. “Peter…”

“I-I know I don’t have to,” he responded quickly, his voice pitchy, “but I already texted Ned, so…” He ducked his head for a second, getting quiet. When he glanced back up, he locked eyes with her, his countenance appearing exhausted. “…I just… I want to go to school….”

With a pause, May nodded, noticing the way her nephew shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Okay, well… call me if you need me to pick you up.”

\--

Bruce didn’t like this. As much as Tony was his friend, starting another altercation with the guy after that… He shook his head, letting it rest against the back of his seat. Absentmindedly, he hit the bottom of his palms together, glancing out the window as the trees whipped by.

Of course he cared for Peter too. He was a good kid who could clearly take care of himself. But rushing out while they’re all supposed to be in hiding? It didn’t seem like a good idea. If anything, one of them could go talk to Tony but, naturally, it was probably _his_ job to do. So… _that_ would be fun.

And Cap, well… He and Tony haven’t been on the best of terms since the whole Sokovia debacle… which he himself obviously sat that one out. He heard about how that went down too… and he couldn’t help but feel like he could have been another voice of reason. That’s what hurt the most, especially considering how everything turned out in the end.

His eyes wandered to the driver’s seat. It was light outside now. From where he sat in the back, he could see both Natasha and Steve’s faces, one as stoic as ever and one pensive. Nat was driving and Steve was sitting patiently, watching the world through the windscreen. They had been driving for a while, but they still had a ways to go.

The quiet crooning of the radio could be heard, but no one was really listening to it. Occasionally the two up front would exchange words, but they too didn’t hold much importance beyond just filling the silence. As the dirt began to lead to asphalt, Bruce leaned back again, closing his eyes as the road leveled out.

This whole thing with Tony… It was ridiculous. He would never do this. Peter wasn’t an untrustworthy person either. Even when he had suggested that the teen could potentially be up to something, it rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t know much about him, but he _did_ know Tony.

It _had_ to be something else.

Whatever was going on… he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a bad idea.

\--

“Dude!” Ned exclaimed when Peter walked out of his apartment building, his appearance causing the latter to jump. He ran up to his friend before he could completely make it down the steps, unintentionally stopping him on the last one due to his excitement. Hands extended yet keeping their distance as though Peter were on fire, he gasped in a hushed but antsy voice, “I thought you died or something…!”

“Yeah, no, Ned… I…” Peter fanned put the fingers of the hand holding onto his backpack strap. His eyes passed over his best friend before bowing his head, scuffing one of his shoes across the concrete. He let out a breath that could be construed as a soft chuckle, though the jovial expression didn’t reach his eyes. “…I’m alive.”

“You’re alive,” Ned echoed, looking almost like he didn’t believe him.

“Yeah…” the other breathed, stepping to the side and down onto the sidewalk. He shrugged noncommittally, his eyes downcast. They started walking. “I guess.” He closes his eyes, scowling. He could feel Ned’s anticipation, which he couldn’t fault the guy for. “I don’t…” He takes in a sharp breath. “I know you got questions, man, but I _really_ don’t wanna talk about―”

“Peter, man, I saw the news last night,” Ned went on, shaking his head. Peter went quiet, focusing his attention on the sidewalk now. “Sorry,” the other added quickly, noting his demeanor, “it’s just… dude, I can’t _imagine_ what you’re going through.” He tried to get a better look at his friend’s face. “You okay…?”

Peter smiled shakily, lifting his head up and looking up at the sky for a moment. “No,” he answered, turning his head to give him saddened look. He then nodded, looking away, thumb tapping the side of his bag strap. “I-I-I’m not, a-actually…” He bowed his head again and puffed out a bit of air, pressing his lips into a thin line and watching his feet. “I’m… I’m really not, Ned. So, um…” He scrunched up his face, looking to his best friend again.“…you know what? Could we― Can we…” He swallowed, blinking a couple of times before momentarily darting his eyes. “…talk about something else…?”

\--

Manhattan, New York… Hell’s Kitchen

\--

A small, old woman. “I need your help…”

A middle-aged man. “He’s gone nuts! Why’s he fightin’ Spiderman??”

A teenage girl. “Please… I don’t― I don’t know what’s going on.”

The amount of people rushing into their office this morning alone was too much to count. Sure, they had a bit of a reputation, but he was fairly certain a lot of them were unaware of who they were before they strode into their office, bewildered and fearful.

Sitting down at a table in a secluded room, a brown-haired man with small, round glasses sat beside another man with long, dirty blonde hair. A true friend. A bit on the odd side, but he meant well.

Across the table sat a young woman. She was quiet… Two heartbeats, one more subtle. Did she know?

The second man placed his hands on the table, interlacing his fingers. “Just tell us what happened, Mrs. Ellington,” he adjured.

The woman shifted, nodding before licking her lips. “U-um…” She swallowed. “…Okay.” Her gaze flickered between the two men. “I…” Clearly nervous. Scared. “…we were…” She shook her head, blinking a few times, her eyes glossy. “I-I saw… Iron Man… or something… There were a _lot_ of them. And Spiderman… He…” A breath. “…he tried to keep them under control but they were… beating him…” She squinted, disgusted. “…shooting at him… I…I know he had to defend himself… I _know_ that, but…” Taking in a shaky breath, she leaned forward, placing her face in her hands. “God, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” the blonde urged. “Take your time.”

Through her hands, the woman let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair and dropping her hands before she could bring herself to continue. “A… a lot of my neighbors, they…” She swiped a hand across her face, letting it fall in her lap. “…they heard a commotion… One of the, uh, Iron Men… crashed through Mr. Sahlberg’s apartment…” She trailed off, her tone causing the other man to silently raise his head just slightly. “A few more hit some buildings down the street… I heard explosions…” Her face twisted in worry. “My brother. He lives not too far from me, I― I couldn’t call him…” Once again, she bowed her head, inhaling shakily. She mumbled something else but it was a bit incoherent, a teardrop falling.

“Foggy, could you give us a moment…?” the brunette spoke up suddenly, the long-haired man turning to face him. After a look to their client, he gave a nod, paused, then replied with a simple “uh, yeah, sure.” As soon as he was done gathering his things and headed for the door, he focused his attention back on the woman.

“I’ll go ahead ‘n’ getcha some water,” Foggy told her with an assuring smile, patting the door frame before he closed the door behind him.

Then there were two. The woman sniffled, but otherwise the room was pretty quiet.

“Are you alright…?” the man inquired after a while.

Another sniff, and then a bitter chuckle. “No…”

“I’m sorry,” he replied calmly, “I’m sure it’s been hard for you.”

She pulled back, frowning incredulously. “Are you… mocking me…?”

“Please don’t misunderstand me. That’s just how I sound.” He offered a small chuckle as if that would alleviate the woman’s tension. He shrugged a bit, though the gesture was very subtle. “We’re a bit unconventional, I know,” he readjusted himself in his seat, “but we fully intend to help you, regardless of what that entails.”

She was speaking with her hands now, fingers spread. “But you can’t… guarantee… that―” She huffed. “How can we be safe if the people who are supposed to _protect_ us aren’t doing that??” She received no response.

The door then creaked open just a bit as Foggy peeked inside, a paper cup of water in his hand. Neither at the table react to his arrival. He whispered “Matt” but was promptly ignored, instead choosing to quietly take his seat and slide the cup across the table. The water too went unnoticed.

Leaning forward, the brunette tried again. “Mrs. Ellington―”

“H…how…” A head shake and a soft whimper. “You can’t―”

“Mrs. Ellington, I assure you…” Matt spoke, his voice firm. He flashed a small smile, though his lips were firmly pressed together. “I will do everything I can to make sure you’re safe.”

\--

“Oh, wow… I haven’t heard this song in ages,” Steve beamed as he stared out the window, turning just to see the driver’s reaction, a bit of hope in his baby blues.

“Really?” Natasha teased. “Remind you of the old days…?”

He chuckled. “Heh. Alright, Romanoff,” he replied as his smile grew wider. He pointed at the radio. “This is a classic, I’ll have you know.”

As if on cue, the sound quality dropped for a split second, a slight buzz coming through the speakers before reverting to normal. The former spy raised her eyebrows as she tilted her while she shrugged. “You’re right,” she stated, “I’m sure the glitching sounds are what give it its _charm_ ―” Again, Steve gave a good-natured laugh. “―and are not at _all_ annoying in the least.”

“Wh… Okay! It happens. These songs are old, I get it. I don’t expect them to sound _great_ nowadays…”

“No, no, it sounds great, don’t get me wrong,” she smirked.

“Right.” He snickered. “But, really, you should try listening to it when you get the chance. I know a few that you might like…”

As the two of them continued to chatter, Bruce suddenly scowled. He noticed the Captain’s hand slowly beginning to grab onto Natasha’s wrist, her own still grasping the steering wheel. Blinking, his attention focused on the other’s face and his skin crawled once he noticed the other looking back at him. The talking continued, but now he wasn’t sure if it was still them or if it was the radio. He was suddenly well aware that he couldn’t bring himself to look, his eyes locked on the bright blue ones of the Captain. The older man then gave him a look that struck him the wrong way. It was harsh, almost sinister. While the war hero’s had his moments of fury, specifically when it came to innocent people in danger, he never looked like this. Natasha, however, gave no immediate reaction. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Couldn’t she sense what was going on? As the man tightened his grip, it made Bruce’s heart begin to race. Still, they held eye contact.

“Steve,” he murmured as he gaped at his friend.

Upon hearing the other speak, both Natasha and Steve briefly tore their gaze away from the road and glanced behind them, the former looking through the rearview mirror, their conversation halted in its tracks. They appeared puzzled by the wide-eyed expression that was on their friend’s face, but Bruce didn’t see it. Steve went to respond but he was immediately cut off by the other’s question:

“What are you doing…?”

\--

Science. He usually loved science but today he felt a small pang of guilt. He wanted to leave. He really did. Sure, going to school had been his idea and it was just an ordinary day but, to him, there was too much going on. People were too loud. The lights were too bright. Everything seemed to be too close…

He was quiet. It worried his friends but he brushed it off, assuring them that he was just tired. Although not a complete lie, it definitely wasn’t the main reason for his irritability. His mind once again began to wander to the events that transpired over the past few days. He couldn’t say he was mad exactly. How could he be? He shouldn’t be― no, he shouldn’t be. If anything, he was mostly confused and hurt.

Everything Tony had said made sense, right? At least to some degree anyway… but he couldn’t figure out how he himself fit into the equation.

What reason would Tony have to say the things he did? Why would he steal from him? If he did… when? And why couldn’t he remember?

With one of his hands, he gripped onto his hair, puffing out a loud breath of air. His eyes were big yet they were unfocused. An involuntary shiver coursed through his body.

 _“You know what this whole experience has told me? I_ can’t _trust you.”_

Stop. It hurts. That hurts…

“Peter…!” came a sharp whisper.

“H― what?” He turned to the desk that was one up and to the left of him, where Ned sat staring back at him with a worried look. How long had he been trying to get his attention?

“…You okay?” mouthed his friend. The girl beside him seemed annoyed and chose to bury her head into her book, but Peter hardly noticed that.

Peter cleared his throat, scrambling a bit and then bringing a hand up to rest his chin on it. “Um, yeah, no―” He offered a fairly brief smile. “No, I’m good.” His friend, though a bit skeptical, didn’t press any further, for which he was thankful. With so much on his mind, the day was already feeling long because of his classes, but the mundaneness of everything made this even more obvious today. Sighing through his nose as his teacher continued to drone on, he glanced down at his notes, his eyes growing in size when he spotted something.

There was writing in the corner of a page in his notebook that hadn’t been there before. It certainly wasn’t his own. Though the handwriting was slightly unsteady, he could still make out the words, which were a dead giveaway that it wasn’t a classmate playing a prank on him. It read:

 

_Meet me after school._

_\- Stephen Strange_

 

_P.S. – Pay attention in class._

 

Peter blinked down at the note, furrowing his brow and glancing around the classroom. Naturally, said doctor was nowhere in sight.

How…?

Shaking his head, he tore the corner of his paper out of his notebook and swiftly folded it up, focusing his attention back on the board as he tucked it into his pocket.

\--

Columbia, South Carolina

\--

“Wizard…”

Thor’s blue eyes wandered along the rushing river he stood in the middle of, some debris from the crumbling buildings nearby landing in the water with a solid thunk. Rain cascaded down, soaking his long blonde hair and splattering when it collided with the water below. The trees groaned lowly as the water pushed against them, threatening to topple them over. The vague warbling sound of submerged car horns called out in the distance, but the noise was alien to him and so he paid it no mind.

“What a fool,” he growled, absentmindedly swinging the arm holding his hammer. The water rushing around him roared, almost completely drowning out his voice, though he was doing little to speak above it. As he walked through it, his balance was steady. Still the water tugged on his boots in an attempt to pull him down, trailing off the bottom as he took another step. He tossed Mjölnir in the air, catching it in the same hand. “Thinks I don’t know what I’m doing…”

Strange had some nerve, testing _him_ as if there wasn’t already another person who was more in need of questioning on the basis of morality. Stark was to blame. He was the one to blame for everything, the one being reckless…

His brow furrowed as he came to a halt, his mouth twitching briefly. He scanned the water’s surface, raising his head to look out onto the city before him. “…I know.”

After a period of silence, he frowned then lowered his head, making a passing glance down at Mjölnir and tightening his grip on it. Turning to look over his shoulder, his eyes flashed as he focused his attention on the horizon.

“Tony Stark will know my wrath…” he mumbled, sounding distant. “I will make sure of that.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Two chapters in four days??
> 
> P.S. – I suck at proofreading lol (I honestly just want you guys to read it and then I realize I fucked up after the fact)

School, for the most part, went by without any problems. Heck, by some miracle, even Flash kept his distance. As he shuffled through the hall past his fellow classmates and headed for the exit, Peter stared down at the note.

He wasn’t exactly sure what Doctor Strange meant by it, but he found the man outside, true to his word. He was dressed in a heavy navy blue coat, his hands tucked into his pockets, hair blowing just a bit with the breeze. A few teens passed him by as he leaned against the pillar by the front gate, staring at him with curiosity. Upon seeing him, Peter smiled lightly, jogging up to him, slowing down just a few feet away.

“Hey,” he panted.

Stephen raised his head a bit. “Hey.” As Peter opened his mouth to speak, he gestured with his head then pushed off of the pillar. “Come on,” he instructed. Waving his hand over his shoulder, he added, “And call your car guy. Let him know you’re busy.”

“W— _Happy_ …?” Peter blinked several times. "O-okay,” he uttered, confused, but nonetheless he started to follow, albeit a bit slow. “Wh…”

“If you wanna talk, I suggest you keep up.”

\--

The car continued to rumble on the asphalt, clunking a bit as it struck the road on a bridge leading to New York City. No one said a word, Steve frowning as he looked to Natasha and then back again. Bruce’s eyes snapped to the other man’s hand then to his face.

“Let her go…” he muttered, knitting his brow.

Then, Cap snickered, sliding off his seatbelt as Natasha glanced over. “Sorry, Dr. Banner. Can’t do that.”

Swiftly, he slid out of his seat, pulled back his leg, then kicked the car door off of its hinges. The rest of it proceeded to be a blur. The car swerved when Steve attempted to tug Nat out of her seat. At one point she must have shouted “What are you doing?!” because Bruce soon found himself wrestling with the dirty blonde man in the front seat. He didn’t stand his ground much, especially considering his position in the car and who he was fighting with, and soon ended up being knocked back with a swift elbow to the face. In response, he growled, his eyes flaring with a hint of green.

“Bruce??” Natasha glanced in the back seat multiple times, hair flowing with her head, eyes wide at the sight of the brunette hyperventilating in the back seat. Cursing under her breath, she ordered, “Steve, get him to calm down!”

He barely heard her words though, his attention locked on the soldier beside her. The blonde nodded and he scowled at that. “I’m on it,” he replied, telling her something he couldn’t make out. Then the passenger seat fell down, the Captain now having complete access to the back. Turning over, he offered the scientist a smile, but something about it looked vicious. “Just relax, Dr. Banner,” Cap purred, holding out a hand as he began to crawl into the back seat. He almost appeared alien, it was freaking him out. Bruce immediately swatted his hand away, eyes wide like a frightened animal. “Everything’s fine.”

“N-no, it’s not,” he panted, pulling back as if trying to squeeze himself into the farthest corner of the car.

“Sun’s going down, pal,” the other giggled.

Bruce’s stomach fell and he abruptly pulled up his legs. “No, don’t you say _that_ —” He then sent both feet straight into Cap’s jaw, knocking the man back a bit. “—to me!”

Steve, on his knees, leaned back, his hand holding onto his jaw as he hissed through his teeth. The brunette held up his hand, eyes flickering towards Natasha then back at the Captain. “Nat, pull over…!” he bellowed. “There’s something wrong with Steve!”

\--

“So… so, why did you need to talk to me…?” Peter asked tentatively after they had walked for a block and a half. He glanced behind them before he looked back up at Stephen. “I thought we—”

“Yeah,” the man said quickly, nodding as he scanned the buildings and the people before them. “I know we did,” he made a quick glance to Peter, “it’s just…” He sighed through his nose, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. Then he pulled one out, moving his hand in a circular motion. “You know…” His hand went back into his pocket. “…you’re a kid and after all that’s been going on, well…” He pressed his lips together but said no more.

Peter blinked, then nodded. “Right.” He looked up at the doctor, uncertain.

“I did some digging…” the sorcerer disclosed.

“O…okay.”

“…and by that, I mean I reluctantly paid Stark Industries a visit.” He squinted. “I was turned away, of course. Had I known he’d _sold_ it, I probably would’ve been saved the trouble—” He passed a glance at Peter, who darted his eyes to the side. “—but I digress… You said you had no idea what was going on,” he sidestepped past a chattering couple and kept walking, “so I figured you’d have some free time today— do some investigating.”

Peter stammered, “H-h-how would you—”

“Mm, crime rates tend to go down during this time of day… it’s chilly… no one wants to be out.” He shrugged. “Pretty sure you can get back to your spider thing in thirty minutes, right? Plus, we talked about certain things regarding your suit…” He blinked, noticing that Peter was starting to slow down, and held up a hand. He also came to a halt. “Sorry,” he added quickly. He briefly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I’m not… trying… to overstep.” He shook his head and tucked his hand into his pocket.

“No…! No, I get it, I mean…” Peter also shook his head. “I get it, Dr. Strange, we…” He huffed. Can’t see him. Not again. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he looked miserable. “I… Do we _have_ to? If I just stay out of Mr. Stark’s way, then m-maybe… maybe…”

“…Maybe… what? He’ll leave you alone?” Peter said nothing but he felt he hit the nail right on the head. He squinted, gesturing to him. “Come on, kid, you can’t tell me you _want_ that.”

The teen bit his lip, looking down at his feet. Stephen let out a sigh through his nose, looking around for a moment.

“Look, you don’t have to do anything, okay, but Stark…” He scowled, tilting his head. Growling, he continued, “You have to understand, Peter. Rich as he is and as much property as he owns, he can’t just keep doing this… and certainly not unchecked.”

\--

“Hey, uh, Matt.” A hum came in reply from the desk across the room. Foggy Nelson, the man with long hair, looked up from where he hovered over a table. Before him was a chair, his bag resting in the middle of it. He was flicking through some papers. “Karen and I were planning on going to lunch.” He looked over for a second. “You wanna come with?”

“No,” Matt Murdock, the other man in the room, answered, getting to his feet and stretching out his back. He swiped his phone and wallet off of his table, shoving it into his jacket. “I have to be somewhere anyway.”

“‘ _Be_ somewhere’?” Foggy beamed, glancing down as he tucked some notes away into a bag. “You got a date or something?”

Matt chuckled and pushed in his chair, walking over to the front door and opening it as he grabbed his walking stick. “Something to that effect.”

His friend, looking excited, reached out a hand, taking a few steps forward. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Goodbye, Foggy,” Matt called with a smile as he slipped out.

\--

“Natasha,” he spat. “ _Go_!!”

“Bruce,” Natasha tried, glancing back over her seat again. The last thing they needed was a scene. But, despite herself, she couldn’t help her heart racing. The speeding on the highway along the bridge wasn’t helping that either. “Bruce, there’s nothing wrong with Steve, okay? Now I need you to _calm down_ …”

“No, don’t tell me to calm down!” he retorted, shaking his hands furiously, though the volume of his response startled her a bit. A car honked nearby, causing him to jump a little, growling.

“Dr. Banner…” Steve started as he attempted to get closer again, but Bruce cut him off.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!!” he boomed, slamming his fist against the side of his door, cracking the glass.

Hearing this, Natasha immediately slammed on the brakes. The car moaned and screeched as it came to a halt. Behind them, cars zipped by, honking their horns as they drove around them in order to avoid crashing into them. Steve, not buckled in to his seat, grabbed onto the back of his own as well as the driver’s seat to keep himself from crashing out of the windshield. He did, however, hit his head on the roof of the car and, when they came to a full stop, he rubbed the sore spot. Natasha uttered a small apology then turned to look to their friend in the back, but the scientist didn’t see them. His eyes were fixated on the Captain’s hand, which was still clinging to the driver’s seat.

But it wasn’t… Cap was holding her arm. He intended to hurt her, he knew that. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong, his senses screamed. Nat was in danger.

Then, without warning, Natasha was sent flying— no, _falling_ — through the hole in the car where the door used to be, her flailing form disappearing over the side of the bridge as Captain Rogers beamed down at the sight. Swallowing hard, Bruce began to shake, his fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his seat and ripping it. A low rumble began to grow in his chest, the tension clear on his face, his veins threatening to pop with each heavy heartbeat. His eyes flashed.

And then everything went dark….

Steve let out a gasp as he gaped at his friend, his gaze flickering to the inside of the vehicle as it started to burst in a few spots. Looking back to Bruce as the car trembled, he turned his head briefly, though he did not tear his eyes away from the other man. “Nat…” he breathed, hurriedly using one hand to gesture for her to exit the car— briefly shoving her a couple of times with a quiet “go, go” as he did— while the other was on the handle of his own door, which, naturally, was still intact. “We got a code green…”

\--

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Stephen looked to him expectantly, smiling when Peter spoke again. “How come you don’t use any weapons?”

“I don’t need to.”

Peter hurried ahead of the man so he could face him, walking backwards, clapping his hands together. “Yeah, but IF you could have one…”

Stephen gave him a shrug. “I dunno… I might be partial to an axe.” His eyes darted a second as he pondered the question. Softer, he mused, “Or a bow…”

“What?”

He shook his head then pulled a hand out from his pocket, gesturing with a finger at the sidewalk behind Peter. “Hey, shouldn’t you watch where you’re going?”

“O-oh, yeah.” Peter slowly came to a stop then turned to fall in line with Strange as he walked past. He beamed up at him. “Do you think you could teach me how to do that? You know, with the light stuff?” He blinked. “That reminds me, is it bioluminescent…? I couldn’t tell.” He pointed at the man, knitting his brow. “And… h-how to you make the portals?”

“Don’t look too much into it,” Stephen answered, ducking his head to hide his smile. A moment later he was thrown off his gait, stumbling back a bit— Peter also jumped back, startled. Holding up his hands, he faced the person he bumped into, bowing his head. “Sorry, that was my fault.”

The individual, a brown-haired a man with glasses and a walking stick, returned the gesture. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to, Dr. Strange,” he answered with a smile, passing between the two of them. The sorcerer’s brow twitched for a moment as he stared after the man, but he moved to leave anyway. Peter on the other hand, as Stephen began to depart, noticed some movement by his feet. Spotting a card on the ground, he stooped down and picked it up.

“Excuse me…! Mister! I think you…” He squinted at the text on the small card, his voice getting lower.  “…dropped something….” Murdock and Nelson Attorneys at Law? He gulped, then looked up only to find the man was gone.

“Hey,” called Strange, “you alright?”

“Uh, yeah…!” he squeaked, turning around. His eyes darted over his shoulder again. “Yeah, I was just, um…” When he spotted the incredulous look on the other’s face, he tucked the card away and shrugged. “I dunno.”

The older man nodded. Then Stephen’s expression, for a moment, faltered. He looked to be contemplating something. After a minute his brow raised. “…Have you eaten anything yet?”

\--

New York Police Department

\--

“Chief…!”

A short young man in an officer’s uniform pushed past a couple of officers and a civilian, seeming to be out of breath. The station was crowded, which wasn’t anything new, but it was even more stifling considering the events that transpired over the past several hours. He made a beeline for the chief of police’s office, repeating himself with a huff and he nearly collapsing on the doorframe when he reached it.

“What _is_ it, Adler?” sighed the captain as she looked up from the papers that were practically being shoved into her face, exasperated. The other officers in the room turned to stare at him as well. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of s—”

“Ch-chief, we got a situation…” He shook his head, gulping as he jerked a thumb back in the direction towards the front doors. “You’re… you’re going to want to see this.”

The chief frowned. He must be joking. “What’s so important that y—”

Outside, a fierce and monstrous howl could be heard, the sound alone shaking the building and everyone in it to their core, an immediate hush and a feeling of dread rushing over the crowd.

\--

New Avengers Facility

\--

“Hello, Mr. Stark,” Friday greeted as Iron Man came flying and landing in the lab. “Did you enjoy your flight?” A mumble came in reply. “You have forty-three emails and thirty-seven missed calls, about twenty of which are from—”

Quickly, he cut in, “Friday, do me a favor—”

“…Yes, Boss?”

“—transport the rest of my stuff here from the other location.” Tony walked further inside, stepping out of his suit, which promptly shelved itself. “Pepper keeps getting on my case about that,” he grumbled. Speaking into an earpiece now, he pointed upwards in a vague direction for a second, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Oh, and keep all visitors out. I don’t care if it’s urgent.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” came its inquiry.

He held out both hands, palms open, as if offended. “Hey. What’d I say? It’s night time.” He shrugged, gestured to himself, and dropped his hands to his sides. “It’s **me** time,” he smirked. “You know what that is, right, Fri? You should try it some time— you’d love it.” Upon getting verbal confirmation from his AI, he was then left in silence. After taking a few steps over to his desk, he set the headset down on it, turning to his computer to examine it.

As he clicked through some files, he blinked once, then twice. His vision began to look a bit blurry. Either he was really tired or that fight took a lot out of him, which… made little sense. Choosing to ignore it, he slowly took a seat on the edge of his chair; however, it was too persistent for him to focus and he began to find himself with a bit of a headache. He would take something to help but he had a lot to do.

Then suddenly he winced and let out a shout, stumbling backwards and falling onto the floor, knocking over his chair in the process.

_…Welcome back._

“Oh, god…” he panted as the world spun, slowly crawling back away from his desk, his gaze trying but failing to fixate on something. Tony then yelped as a burst of pain shot through his skull so fast that he choked, his expression briefly frozen in horror and anguish. Taking in a large gulp of air, he threw his head forward, his hand going up to his mouth as he proceeded to cough profusely. In between each convulsion, he gasped for air like a stranded fish desperately trying to breathe. He practically screamed when he finally managed to steady his breathing, for the most part, slamming both hands down on the floor in frustration and pain.

Nothing was said right away, Tony’s neurons firing a million miles per hour. He blinked several times, slowly bringing a hand up to his head, curling his fingers in his short dark hair, feeling tears coming to his eyes but for what reason, he had no idea. He let his hands fall, almost like he was unsure what to do with them.

Flashes of the altercation from earlier came rushing in, though not all at once. Peter… and Strange. There was shouting… There was fighting. What happened??

His brow knit together as he gulped, a nasty taste now in his mouth. Huffing for a split second, his breath abruptly caught in his throat before he let it go. “No…” he whispered, tone full of dread, his eyes widening in realization as it hit him.

_“Sir, please!” Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his hand hitting the side of the suit’s arm. He whimpered. “That hurts!”_

_“STARK, let him GO!!”_

“No, no, no… Peter…” He bent over himself, dragging a hand across the floor and up to his head, brushing over his hair and dropping it again, only to bring it up to his chest and grasp onto his shirt, squeezing it. His heart felt like it had been roasted alive and then shredded into tiny pieces. “Fuck…!” he choked, shivering violently.

Although it hadn’t said a word over the course of two minutes, he could still feel its presence nearby. He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it was there. The only thing he could hear was his breath.

Pausing, he licked his chapped lips, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. “…You…” He ground his teeth. “…What… did you make me _do_ …?”

 _Don’t blame_ **me** _, Stark. I only gave you a_ push _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omgosh, guys... who IS that??? :O
> 
> Edit: It's not someone we know.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I wanted to posted this on the first but I ended up running a New Year's race so I'm beat. On top of that, I wanted to make this chapter longer than I could handle... BUT, on the plus side, that means a new chapter is on the way soon. Keep an eye out!
> 
> And HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

“What’s going on?” Rhodey’s voice came through their channel. “We got a code green?”

Natasha held her hand up to her ear, pressing two fingers against it. “Unfortunately,” she huffed, glancing over her shoulder to spot Cap grabbing his shield from the back of the car.

They had driven further into the city, cop cars going nuts as they rushed around in a panic, Hulk leaping around with no clear goal in mind. The sound of sirens could be heard irritating the giant. Helicopters also soared overhead, clearly just trying to keep tabs on him.

“I’m going to try calming him down. If that doesn’t work, we might need a plan B.” She looked to Steve as he walked over to stand beside her. “We’ll keep you posted.”

\--

Outside of a small deli, Stephen and Peter stood leaning against the wall, both eating sandwiches. In the distance were the sounds of sirens but that was the norm.

By his feet the teen had placed his backpack, his leg through one strap to ensure it wasn’t going anywhere. Peter’s eyes were downcast, but his mind was elsewhere, while Stephen was absentmindedly looking from passerby to passerby before glancing back down at his sub as he took another bite.

Peter hummed as he chewed, pulling a couple of napkins from his pocket, though with a bit of difficulty. He focused on the doctor, swallowing his food and then pointing at him, which caught the other’s attention. “Mm… You know, there’s this really great deli by my house― Mr. Delmar’s…” He nodded. “Really good,” he added, going to take another bite and instead choosing to say with a bit of sadness in his tone, “Best in Queens….”

He hadn’t heard much about the deli recently. Delmar had taken to staying at home for a while, juggling the idea of working somewhere else if he isn’t able to get the store back up and running. Peter told him he hoped that he would stick around.

After a pause, he raised his eyebrows, smiling briefly. “He’s got a cat.” He gained a hum in reply. The teen then nervously glanced around, now staring at Stephen with wide eyes. “Are…are you _sure_ that this is okay? I-I can pay you back…”

The sorcerer balled up the wrapper on his sub as he finished it, holding it in his hand. Chewing the rest of his food, he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured after he swallowed. Peter passed him a napkin and he took it with nod. “I got it.”

“B—”

Before he could continue, a cop car whizzed by, siren blaring obnoxiously. As it rounded a corner, a few people came running by from the direction it had been, chattering to each other, phones in the hands of a couple of them.

“Are you serious??” one giggled.

“Let’s get a closer look!” another exclaimed.

Peter felt a numb buzzing feeling in the back of his skull. He blinked then looked to Strange, but the older man was already on the move, trash discarded. Finishing up his sandwich, he stumbled a bit as he bent down to pick up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he tailed the doctor.

“Does it take you long to get ready?”

At first puzzled, the teen shook his head slowly. “N… No,” he answered.

It took a second to realize that as the sorcerer continued to walk, his clothes began to morph into the outfit Peter had seen him donning the other night. Stephen then held out his arm, the young hero gaping in awe as a red cloak floated down from above and the doctor swiftly pulled it onto his shoulders.

“Good,” he said as he came to a stop and faced him. Glancing around, he continued, “Meet me in five minutes.” He turned away and started drawing out something with his hand, a portal quickly appearing. The exit seemed to be located in a different part of the city, the wailing of sirens emanating from it as well. “Try to make it faster if you can,” he finished as he stepped through, the portal closing behind him.

“…Right.” Peter frowned, darting into the nearest alleyway, hand tightly gripping his bag strap.

-

Spider-Man zipped over several building tops, scanning the ground below. “Told me to ‘meet him’ but I have no idea where he is…!” he grumbled, landing on the edge of a roof to watch on as two police cars coming from the north and west met up and headed east. Taking a pause, he followed them.

Down the street they were on, a loud roar could be heard. It wasn’t alien to him, but it definitely seemed big.

Spotting a barricade of cop cars, he landed on the ground just before them, running up. As he passed by a few officers, excusing himself as he did, he greeted them, “Hey! What’s goin’ on?” Not getting an answer right away, he moved to see what they were looking at.

“Woah…!”

In a park just beyond the street, something big and green that didn’t match the scenery around it could be seen lumbering in the middle of it. Some joggers began to sprint away from the scene upon seeing it.

Was that the _Hulk_??

With a group of police officers Captain Rogers was conversing, pointing in the direction of the giant and looking as determined as ever. Beside him was Stephen Strange— _finally_ — who was listening in to the conversation, occasionally offering his opinion with a few hand gestures of his own. Natasha was holding onto something, glancing back and forth between Hulk and the officers, saying something in response to one of them. When a couple of them nodded to the heroes and took their leave, some going to their vehicles, Peter wasted no time in heading over.

“Hey, guys…!” Spidey greeted as he ran up to them, but his arrival went by unnoticed, save for a brief glance from the Captain.

“I’m just hoping that lullaby works,” Natasha sighed, giving Steve a concerned look. “If it doesn’t, I’ll call Rhodey.”

The Captain nodded, crossing his arms, and then said something about Sam— likely the Falcon— being on his way, but Peter wasn’t focused on that, a bit perplexed by Widow’s words.

“A _lullaby_ … What?” But she was already on the move. The Captain trailed behind, however, pointing to Strange.

“I need your help to subdue Hulk— Can you fight?”

Stephen tilted his head in the form of a slight nod, raising his brows. “I can do my best,” he stated.

As the two older men began to take their leave, Peter immediately took a step forward. “Waitwaitwait… What d’ya want _me_ to do??” he hurriedly asked, hand extended.

This managed to stop the Captain in his tracks. Strange looked to Steve, who seemed to be mulling something over. After a second, he shook his head once. “Son,” he started, facing Peter, “I need you to stay out of the way.” Before the teen could respond, he scanned the street then added, “Clear the area.” He jumped in place a bit before he took off running, Strange on his heels. “Keep civilians out of danger!”

“But what about—”

“Do _not_ engage!!” the soldier shouted over his shoulder. Peter frowned.

Ahead he could hear Widow’s voice being amplified through a megaphone though he could barely tell what was being said. Heaving a big sigh, he jumped into the air and took off in another direction, likely off to assist any civilians that might have been inconvenienced due to the Hulk’s rampage.

Near the edge of the park, Natasha stood calling out to Hulk, but he paid her no mind. After a few failed attempts, and Rogers had caught up to her with Strange not far behind, she turned to face her friend, lowering the megaphone.

“He’s not listening,” she stated simply, shaking her head. She gave him a once-over. “Think you can take him?”

Cap tilted his head, his eyes laser-focused onto the green Avenger as he walked over to another street. “I don’t really have much of a choice.” With a silent glance to Stephen, who had begun to draw out another portal, he readjusted his hold on his shield. “We’ll stall him. Get as many reinforcements as you can. We might need access to Tony’s satellite.”

Natasha nodded as the two took their leave, reappearing in front of Hulk, much to the other’s irritation.

The Hulkbuster would be a good idea… But since Tony was out of the question for assistance, they could only hope that Rhodey would be able to handle it.

-

Dr. Strange and Captain Rogers could only do so much without irritating the Hulk but even that was difficult to avoid. The sorcerer was floating above him, trying to distract the giant by using some of his magic without directly engaging him, but the other merely responded by blindly swatting at his spells and stomping his feet a few times, knocking several signs down and causing the ground under him to crack. Steve was also attempting to talk him down but, along with the arrival of more cops in their cars, that only fueled his rage further.

Suddenly the Cloak gave Strange a tap on his should. He turned to it, knitting his brow. “What?” With a ruffle of its fabric, it pointed upward. Stephen, following its indication to the sky, scoffed, landing beside Steve. “Gods, this kid is unbelievable…”

Captain Rogers, momentarily puzzled, followed his gaze, frowning at the sight. Sure enough, there was the young Mr. Parker coming in swinging even though he had strictly told him not to come near the place.

“Mr. P— _Kid_ !” came the Captain’s voice from the ground, his voice now amplified by a police car’s radio. “I thought you were good at listening—” Firmly, he continued, “Do _not_ engage! I repeat, do NOT engage!!”

Spider-Man encircled the scene, glancing down at the raging Hulk. He shot out another line, pulling himself up onto the ledge of a short building overseeing the intersection.

How could he _not_ come back knowing what was going on?

He huffed, quietly muttering to himself: “Yeah, easy for _you_ to say.”

As the Hulk continued to walk, Peter called out to him, his voice causing the other to whirl around fast. When he saw who it was, he relaxed but only a little bit. He let out a low sigh, shifting in place.

“Little spider,” Hulk acknowledged simply.

Spidey chuckled softly. “Yeah… yeah, I’m—I’m ‘little spider,’” he replied, springing over to a lamppost. This was crazy. He was _actually_ talking to the Hulk! “Hey, so, I… I’m gonna need you to stop what you’re doing, Hulk… and—”

At the teen’s words, the giant chuffed, waving a big hand dismissively, his last swing hitting the post and causing it to bend a little. “Go away,” he grumbled, annoyed.

Peter easily jumped straight up to avoid the impact, landing back on the lamp. He was closer to the ground now, crawling down the side of the post and balancing on it. “Hulk, you _know_ I can’t do that…!” he told him, his tone gentle, if not a tad nervous.

While he was careful in jumping up onto a row of traffic lights, his movements clearly were keeping the other on edge. Again, Steve’s voice as well as a few others sounded off from the ground below, but he shook his head quickly in response and held out both hands in the other’s direction, his attention still on the Hulk. He shushed them, inching forward a bit. “Yeahyeahyeah, just…” He trailed off, speaking quietly now. “Hold on a second…”

“GO!!” the green behemoth roared as the kid got closer, his volume getting the teen to halt in his tracks for a moment but it was short-lived. “Spider here to _hurt_ Hulk!”

He couldn’t see it, not that he’d be able to, but his words caused Peter to frown a bit.

Did he really think that?

Hulk's brown eyes fell on every officer that stood cowering behind their vehicles with their weapons at the ready. He spotted Captain Rogers as well, but his position right beside them made him uneasy. That was his friend but… he had hurt Nat. He was probably fitting to do the same to him….

 _Everyone_ was here to hurt him. He could feel it. When Peter spoke again, he was jolted out of his thoughts, grunting as he faced him again.

“Nonononono! I’m not gonna hurt you, big guy!” Spidey assured, his hands up. “Let’s just… take it easy.” He chuckled nervously, gesturing generally to Hulk. “Black Widow said you like lullabies, right…?”

He earned a grunt in reply. Great… That was a ‘yes,’ right?

Okay. Awesome, so… what lullaby was she talking about??

“Cool,” he said. “Um…” He glanced down at his hand before he carefully began to raise it. “I-I… I’m just gonna touch your hand. Okay? Let’s just do that…” He gulped, bowing his head a little. “Is that okay…?” Another chuff. He chuckled, relieved. “Alright. Yeah.” He shook his head, extending his hand and fanning out his fingers. “That’s all I’m gonna do.”

Hulk watched in silence, his brown eyes snapping back and forth between the kid hand and his masked face, clearly skeptical. Yet again, the teen began to inch forward, careful to keep his body low.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Peter insisted, voice just above a whisper. Subtly, he wiggled his fingers as though to be more enticing. In turn, the other made a move to do the same but stopped himself, shaking his head wildly. But after another look in the young hero’s direction, he tried once more, curiously started to stretch out his own hand. The gesture made the teen beam and he couldn’t help but make a small noise of jubilation.

Yes! He was doing it!

He offered him a smile despite the obstruction of his mask, reaching out his hand further. “I know you don’t wanna hurt anybody.”

Then an abrupt gunshot cut through the silence, the harsh sound as well as the alarm bells of his spider sense ringing in his head forcing him to pull back. Disrupted and startled as well, Hulk growled in retaliation as his eyes quickly pinpointed the cop who fired off their weapon. Another officer could be heard shouting something before a barrage of bullets began to rain down on the green Avenger, the noise aggravating on the ears.

“Wh— No…!” the teen groaned in frustration, jumping back and clinging to a wall with his feet.

Hulk roared monstrously as the bullets came pelting him on the skin. Though they did nothing to slow him down, they did however manage to piss him off. Upon seeing this Steve immediately barked for them to cease fire, but his words went unnoticed.

Springing up, Spidey shot out a web, tugging on it before swinging over so he could perch atop another lamppost. What were they doing? “I almost had it!”

Swinging his arm around to swat at the bullets, Hulk stomped his foot into the ground, causing the ground to tremble as if terrified. Spider-Man, who was attempting to get close, couldn’t register the other’s hand quick enough due to the gunfire causing his senses to rapidly alert him of danger. Before he realized what was going on, he was sent flying through the nearest building, part of the brick wall he was shot through giving way. Hulk, though still under fire, let out a groan as he turned, eyes widening after the sight of Peter crashing through the building.

“Hold your fire!” Captain Rogers commanded firmly, quickly snatching a gun away from a cop as the rest of the gunfire swiftly petered out. In a low tone, he hissed, “I said hold your fire, soldier.”

“We don’t take orders from _you_ , Captain,” spat the officer. “And in case you haven’t noticed, _sir_ , there is a threat right in front of us!”

Without missing a beat, the blonde snapped back, “I _have_ noticed. And you’re going to have to _listen_ to me if you want to stay alive—” He tossed the gun aside, the weapon clattering across the ground. “—so, with all due respect, I suggest you start doing that.”

“Threat or no,” Stephen stepped in, his eyes moving from them to Hulk, who was no longer paying them any attention, “we need to be on the same page.” He squinted incredulously. “Now I know the police can be pretty incompetent—” The officer puffed out a breath indignantly. “—but _surely_ , of all things, you know not to engage _him_ … because I’m pretty damn certain that _that_ is a losing battle, my friend.”

Steve frowned, staring down the cop. “You need to understand that the Hulk _can_ be dangerous… IF provoked. Now, this could have been avoided, I know…” He gestured to his green companion, who was now inspecting the building Spider-Man had fallen through. “…but we’re here now. All we need to do—”

“Maybe if you kept him under _control_ , we wouldn’t even be here,” snarled another officer.

Glancing over his shoulder, he let out an even sigh. “…All we need to do,” he started again, his voice steady as he faced the first cop, “is calm him down. I know you didn’t want this today, but I need _full_ cooperation on your part.”

-

“Little spider??” Nearby he heard what was likely the sound of a wall exploding, but he barely paid it any mind, a bit too shaken up.

Peter sucked in a big breath, his hand frantically going up to yank off his mask, panting as he managed to do so, squeezing it tight in his hand. Sitting up, he groaned as he shook his head, his eyes fluttering before he squeezed them shut, making a sound that was akin to a laugh but it quickly turned sour, pain erupting through his body. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but he definitely ached.

Noticing a few bricks resting on top of him, he shoved them off with a huff, grimacing as he placed his hand on his knee and bracing himself before he stood. Slowly getting to his feet and dusting himself off, nearly falling over as he did, he jolted when Hulk repeated himself, the young hero suddenly very aware that the other was there. He squinted as the green goliath stepped through a hole in the wall, his breathing heavy as he scoured the area.

Was he checking to see if he was alright?

Spotting Peter nearby, Hulk grunted as he swaggered over to him, boldly reaching an arm out and nudging Peter’s cheek, the action causing the teen to chuckle.

“Heyyy… Hey, big guy,” Peter greeted breathily. With a huff as he caught his breath, he took a step back. “I-I-I’m okay.” Although his head hurt, he nodded once, smiling as the other let out a sound through his nose that would only be construed as relief— or at least what could be considered ‘relief’ for the Hulk. “I’m okay.”

A voice could then be heard shouting outside, the sound causing Peter to whirl around. “There! He’s in there!!” they gasped.

The teen nervously glanced back and forth between the Avenger before him and the crumbling hole in the wall that he had left in his wake. Realization began to bubble in his stomach and his wide brown eyes focused on the green giant, his soulful and worried expression startling the other into stumbling back a few steps.

“Waitaminute… Hulk! Wh-what are you _doing_ — Get _outta_ here…!” Peter hurriedly insisted in a hushed voice. “They think you’re dangerous, man, you gotta go!” He pulled his mask back on, shaking his head when the giant made a move towards him. “Don’t worry about me!”

“Spider…” the other moaned sadly, looking on as the teen leapt high into the air and clung to the nearest wall, climbing up it and swinging out of the nearest window.

The spider was hurt because of him….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for those of you guessing who the bad guy is, try again! ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Not only was this chapter really hard to write... so I had to cut down on a lot of things... but I also wanted to make it longer since I've been gone for quite a while. Please forgive any grammar mistakes and other issues. Hope you enjoy reading it.

Almost as soon as Spider-Man came flying out of the upper level of the building, several policemen began to approach with guns in hand. As the kid came in contact with a nearby pole, he leapt off of it and landed back on the side of the building. Quickly, he crawled down to where they were about to walk through the hole in the wall, stopping just above the entrance and holding out a hand.

“Guys, guys, wait!” Spider-Man spoke up from where he hung upside-down, his sudden presence making a few of them jump. Mumbling a soft apology, he continued, “He’s not trying to attack anybody, okay? I really don’t think it’s a good idea if you go in there ‘cause he might think you’re trying to hurt him—”

“Us hurt _him_??” one officer peeped as Spidey jumped down to join them.

“Yeah.” He tried to usher them back with a hand. “Look, I know how weird it sounds, but if you go in there, he might freak out, a-and… and right now he’s—he’s okay,” he said with a shrug. “So if you _need_ to, please, just… give him space…?”

Silence lingered around the five officers, a few skeptical glances passing between them. At first, since there was no immediate response, Peter thought he overstepped. Why would they listen to a kid? He was still relatively new to this hero thing and they’ve probably been doing this for years. But he’s been wrong before…

“…Alright. You heard him— Stay alert!” the one in the front eventually barked to the rest, the response causing Spidey to sigh, a wave of relief washing over the kid.

“ _Cap_ ,” Natasha’s voice called out through their radio channel, Steve stepping aside so he could hear her over the chattering of uneasy police officers. “ _I managed to get several streets blocked off so there shouldn’t be anyone headed your way. Rhodey says he should be good with plan B, but he’s not entirely sure._ ”

Spidey, who was still standing by the hole in the wall, peered over at Steve expectantly. He then focused his attention back on the building as the soldier glanced up in his direction. At the same time, the cops nearby started to take a few steps back while Peter held his ground.

“I don’t think it matters whether or not he’s ready. Tell him to be on standby if anything goes south,” he answered.

“ _Already on it. Headed your way_ ,” came the response.

With a quick spin, the blonde faced the officers once more. As if they could sense his intense stare, a few met his eyes with others following suit as they grew quiet. “I need as many vehicles as you can spare to barricade those streets,” Cap boomed, flicking his hand in the direction of the other three roads of the intersection besides the one they were on. “Keep Hulk’s focus here.” He looked to a couple of officers that stood beside him, his expression firm. “I cannot stress this enough: Do _not_ engage. We have a plan. If it works… we can get him under control without causing any more panic.” To Strange, as the policemen began to scatter, he asked, “Think you have something in mind to stop the Hulk?”

“My spells are only so strong…” Stephen’s attention turned to the building as a green hand grabbed hold of the crumbling wall and the Hulk emerged from the building soon after, several of the officers at his feet stumbling back even more. Still, Peter stayed close, his hands held up as a sign of peace. Strange nods in the giant’s direction. “I do that, and we have an angry guy on our hands… I can secure the area, though.” Steve nods.

“Hey, man…!” Spider-Man greeted the green behemoth with a hidden smile. Noting that the Hulk was reluctant to approach, especially when a few policemen held up their weapons in defense, he was quick to step forward. “Nonono…! Hey! Just look at _me_!” Several sirens went off in the distance, causing Hulk to jerk his head in their direction, but Peter remained steady. He took a few steps back to give the other some space. “They’re not gonna hurt you, okay?”

With one of his hands, he silently gestured for the cops to lower their guns, which they did after a pause. Several officers radioed in that they had blocked off some of the roads that led their way, noting that they had diverted traffic in the process, paying extra careful that pedestrians stayed clear. Policemen on the ground that weren’t close to the Hulk made sure people in nearby buildings were evacuated if they hadn’t already fled. It wasn’t long after that before Black Widow made her appearance yet again.

“Hope I didn’t miss anything exciting,” Natasha deadpanned as she came running up from behind, coming to a stop beside her friend.

“Hulk! Hey! Over here,” Peter could be heard saying. The giant stepped back with a grunt, turning to face the teen and wrinkling his nose, impatient. It was then that it seemed Peter remembered how small he was compared to the other’s size, as he looked to Cap a couple of times, hoping for some assistance. “Woah. Heh… You’re okay. We’re just talking, big guy. You and me.”

Nat jerked her head at the scene. “How’s it looking?”

“Not good,” Steve responded. “The kid’s doing the best he can, given the circumstances, but the Hulk’s not letting anyone else get close. And if _I_ tried, well…” A pause. “…that wouldn’t be a good idea.” He gave her an uneasy stare. “Think you can try the lullaby again?”

Abruptly, with a slight acknowledgement to Cap with a swish of its fabric, the Cloak unfurled itself and Stephen promptly soared high into the air. This startled Hulk a bit, the green Avenger looking up with a growl. Peter followed the other’s gaze. With a swift movement of his hands, the sorcerer crossed them in front of his chest with his palms exposed. He then fanned out his hands and shoved them forward a bit, a burst of light gleaming as a golden shield of magic appeared before him. Its color began to expand as it spawned duplicates around the intersection and the building, producing a sort of forcefield.

Scowling at the sight of the Hulk growing more antsy as the circumference of the magical dome solidified itself on the ground, Nat turned to Steve. “Probably. But we need to contain this, and fast… and making him more mad is not the best option,” she relayed in a low voice. “I’m pretty sure not many people know about the nature of Hulk and Bruce’s relationship… and, even if they did, the last thing we need is for the news to catch onto the fact that we’re here, if they haven’t already.” The blonde sighed at her words, watching as the Hulk took to stepping outside a bit more in order to inspect part of the magical dome that was closest to him, the giant snarling at one of the cops when they stumbled too close.

She’s right. _Bruce_ was right. They shouldn’t be here. But now they had this problem on their hands. And the real reason they were even there in the first place— Stark— was the last thing on their minds.

“Our best bet is to send Banner back inside and away from civilians—” He turned to glance over his shoulder to look out for any approaching helicopters or incoming news crews in vans, mentally giving his thanks when he saw no sign of either. Peter let out a sound when the Hulk attempted to punch through the barrier, getting closer with a wave of both hands and speaking to him softly in an attempt to get him to calm down. “—which was pretty much the plan from the start… but what we _need_ to consider is how we’ll evacuate him from the premises without drawing more attention.”

Directing a hand towards Strange, she replied, “Well based on _that_ , I’m almost certain he might have something up his sleeve.” She crossed her arms. “At least now it looks like Rhodey won’t have to worry… so long as this works.”

Bringing up one of her hands, she began tinkering with one of the gadgets on her wrist. It might not work, but it was worth a shot. After uttering something under her breath, she slowly strode over to the scene. At the same time, Stephen swiftly dispersed his magic and slowly descended onto the ground. This ultimately confused the giant Avenger, causing him to huff in frustration. He did not seem to pay Natasha any mind as she came to a stop beside Spider-Man, however, as he didn’t notice when she pointed one of her fists in his direction and shot out one of her widow bites.

Before it could even make contact, she continued her steady stride over to him. Peter, on the other hand, gasped as a small device landed on Hulk’s face and released a large shock. The green behemoth roared as his body jolted and he stumbled backwards, his hands furiously swiping at his face as he fell back into the building. A large thud resonated from within the shaky building, rippling through the ground and startling most of the police officers. Natasha soon went after him and, without wasting a moment, Steve called Rhodey over the radio, telling him to be prepared.

“Oh, god…” Peter uttered after a bit of silence. With some jump in his step, he ran after her, shouting, “Is he okay??”

Strange didn’t take long in going after the teen, disappearing into the hole in the wall as well. After Steve called out for the cops to keep any civilians away from the building, he followed the rest, stopping just short of walking inside.

Stephen had taken a quiet step to the side while Spidey stood in the middle of the debris in awe. Nat was hovering over someone, only it wasn’t the Hulk like the young hero thought it was going to be when he walked in. It couldn’t be… but it most certainly was.

Peter’s focus snapped to Cap and then back to the person on the ground, trying hard but failing to contain his jitters. He sputtered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Woah, is that… is that Dr. Banner??”

Bruce blinked, moaning as he shook out his hair, his mess of curls covered in dust. He brushed some of it off of his arms as he looked up, his heart gushing when he spotted a familiar face. “Nat…!” he breathed. He wasted no time in getting to his feet and running over to her, his hands hovering just a few inches away from her. Realizing he was probably just about to hug her, he instead moved his arms in a big sweeping motion, promptly letting them fall as he exclaimed, “Oh my god, I-I can’t believe it! You’re okay!”

“…Yeah? I’m… okay, Bruce. Why wouldn’t I be?” she pressed carefully, shaking her head two times.

“W…well, because you…” He trailed off, his face twisting in confusion. “Uh… B-b-because _Cap_ , he—” His eyes started to scan the area, his gaze eventually falling on Steve, who was standing in the new entryway to the crumbling old building in order to prevent anyone else from entering. He spotted the forbearing Stephen Strange, with a surprisingly eager Spider-Man by his side. Though it was clear they had been there to help as well, the fact that he wasn’t entirely familiar with them as much as he was with Natasha and Steve made him feel nauseous with anxiety. Avoiding their eyes, Bruce cleared his throat, pulling on the hem of his pants uncomfortably as he surveyed the damage. Taking a step forward, realization then dawned on his face. “Oh, no… Natasha, what… what happened? Did…” His jaw slowly started to drop as his eyes widened with horror. His breath hitched in his throat as he hesitated to speak. Quieter, he asked, “…did the other guy go nuts… or—or did _I_?”

He was only met with a fixed gaze from the former spy, but the brief yet fairly obvious avoidance of eye contact was enough to confirm his suspicions. It didn’t matter which one it was at this point. He groaned, bringing up both hands to grasp his hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. What did he _do_??

“Rhodey,” she called over the radio, getting a reply almost as soon as she spoke.

“Ohh… _please_ , tell me I didn’t hurt anybody…” Bruce croaked through his hands, which were covering his eyes now, his voice clearly shaking.

Natasha’s face fell for a split second and she had to turn away to continue her call. “Think you can get Bruce out of here for me?”

The soldier’s voice could be heard responding. “ _Uh, yeah, just give me a minute. Tell him to lay low until then._ ”

To Bruce, Natasha asked, “You think you can lay low until he gets here?”

“Yeah—yeah, no, I’m good. I do that all the time,” Bruce said, an awkward, almost painful expression quickly washing over his face as he shook his head at his words. Natasha watched him for a moment.

“…He’s fine,” she told Rhodey, who had said something that sounded incoherent to the rest of them. “How fast can you get here?”

“One moment,” Stephen interrupted.

Everyone looked on as the other stepped forward, raising his hands slowly to conjure up a portal. Just as he started moving his hand, an opening encompassed by a blazing ring of gold came into existence, a hint of what appeared to be a dark, ancient room began to reveal itself. The two Avengers gave each other an uneasy look, Spidey looking from the sorcerer to the soldier and back again.

Bruce sniffed, unable to look anyone directly in the eye. Once he spotted the portal in question, he pointed at it with a shake of his hand, bewilderment and curiosity written all over his face. “H-how… _how_ did you do that?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Please, come with me,” Strange uttered, gesturing towards the entrance once he was done. “We need to talk, and I think I can help you.” To the young hero, he exhorted, “That includes you too.” His eyes fell to Natasha. He nods once. “It’s probably best we get out of here first. If you need your friend to pick up Dr. Banner, tell him to stop by 177A Bleeker Street.”

\--

Sanctum Sanctorum, Eight Minutes Later

\--

“So, he just got angry… for no reason.” The noncommittal gesture of a hand from Cap was the only response. The sorcerer’s incredulous gaze flickered between Avengers. “And you didn’t notice anything suspicious before that?”

In the middle of the foyer, Rogers, Strange, and Romanoff were standing, facing one another. On the stairway sat Peter Parker, who was listening into the conversation at times but, for the most part, was letting his thoughts wander to other things. Beside him, his mask rested in a pitiful heap. Bruce, by that point, had taken his leave with Rhodey three minutes prior.

“No,” Steve insisted, “we were just driving.” He sighed. “We haven’t seen anyone _besides_ Tony and even then…” He looked to Natasha. “…that was last week.” Stephen briefly made a face, but swiftly turned away to ponder.

Nat took a step forward. “We barely made it halfway across the bridge before he started acting up. He was fine before then.” A pause. “Do you think his proximity to something caused it?” she tried, scrunching up her brow.

Steve was facing her now. “What, you think that maybe gamma radiation had something to do with it…?”

“I donʼt know.” With a shake of her head, her hair moved like a willow tree jostled in the breeze as her eyes met with Steve’s bright blues. “If there was a leak, it didn’t affect _us_ ― we were right there. And Iʼm pretty sure that there werenʼt any facilities nearby that could potentially have any chemicals like that.”

“That kind of exposure would definitely be reckless if it was somehow airborne.” The Captain rolled his shoulders. “It must have been a planned attack, or some big coincidence… because there’s no way anyone would be able to pinpoint our exact location, find _only_ Banner, and somehow _not_ affect anyone else….”

“Okay… Let me ask you this,” Strange started, looking back at them. “What is it that you were doing exactly? Did you stop at all? Did he talk to anyone?”

“No, it was a straight shot. No one should have known we were out at that time. Standard cloaking… tinted windows, disposable phones, the works,” the former spy chimed in again. “Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until then. The only people he spoke to were myself and Rogers.” With a swift glance to her friend, she added, “And then, he suddenly just… started to panic.” At this, Stephen raised a brow and Peter looked up.

“Yeah,” Steve uttered as though he could hardly believe it himself. Just thinking about the whole ordeal… He knit his brow together, eyes scanning the floor for answers. “I don’t know _what_ happened…”

-

_“Steve. What are you doing…?” Bruce swallowed, eyes wide. “Let her go…”_

_Cap shook his head, puzzled at the other’s sudden look of horror, Bruce appearing to gape at something outside that wasn’t there. Steve checked to see if maybe he was misjudging the situation, but still he saw nothing. “Dr. Banner, what—” But the other man seemed to take this as a threat, his features now twisted with fury._

_“What are you doing?!” Natasha shouted as Bruce suddenly made a move for the front seat, clawing at the Captain’s face, Steve frantically trying to block his friend’s swipes. “Bruce?? Steve, get him to calm down!”_

-

Peter stared as the Captain continued, a somber look on the older man’s face, an alarmed expression on his own.

“I tried… calming him down…”

-

_“Just relax, Dr. Banner,” he tried to reassure the other, carefully inching closer. “Everything’s fine.”_

_“N-no, it’s not.” The other was staring down at the floor of the car now._

_Steve swallowed, slightly nervous. Still, he continued, remaining steady. “Sun’s going down, pal.” At these words, the doctor curled in on himself just slightly, almost offended by them. His eyes flashed up at the blonde, and he grit his teeth hard._

_“No, don’t you say_ that _—” Bruce gave the Captain’s jaw a firm kick. “—to ME!”_

-

Steve furrowed his brow. “…But you know how well that worked out.” Stephen nodded slowly, but kept silent.

“Steve,” Natasha spoke up, “it’s not your fault.”

“…I know,” he affirmed after a while, his eyes finding hers before landing on the sorcerer. “I just want to find out what caused it. Too many people were already put into unnecessary danger because of what happened.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she said simply. “We always do.”

As the adults proceeded to discuss their next course of action, Peter began to drown out their voices. In doing so, once again, he found himself thinking about Tony in the midst of it all. Something about mulling over every single thing the scientific genius has ever told him made him feel at ease… at least, up until recently. Yet, despite all that had transpired over the past few days between them, he still couldn’t fathom why his thoughts continued to travel there without fail.

-

_“Tell you what. I’m gonna show you some new gear I’ve been working on for you―”_

_Peter gaped at the billionaire. The fact that Tony would even offer him more than he’s already given him, he couldn’t help but blurt out: “F-for… for me?”_

_The billionaire nodded, something likely akin to a smile briefly flashing across his face but he was again focused on the hallway before them. “―yep, and then we’re going to have Happy drive us somewhere for lunch.” Then, as they turned a corner and began heading down a flight of stairs, he added quietly, “Because I haven’t eaten, and I’m almost certain you haven’t either…”_

_“Yeah…” Peter slowed a bit, still unsure, but a glance from Tony to see if he was still following him made him beam. “Okay.”_

_As they made their way down the stairs, Peter was greeted with Tony’s lab. Friday immediately welcomed them both, which still threw him off in spite of the fact that Tony wasn’t shy in inviting him here to show him his new inventions or to even ask him for his input. Some blueprints laid on the billionaire’s desk, a few parts that had yet to be finished scattered along the floor and several tables._

_“Damn, I have so much to do…” Tony sighed with clear exhaustion in his tone, as if he had briefly forgotten that Peter was there. But in the middle of his stride, which had turned into a bit of an aimless meander around the room at some point, it seemed he remembered and he made a beeline towards a corner of the lab where smaller gadgets appeared to temporarily reside._

_After doing a bit of shuffling through his tools and inventions, he pulled back and whirled on his heel to head back to Peter, who was waiting patiently by his desk. In his hands he held two dark slate webshooters lined with strips of gold that coiled around the devices like spider legs holding onto its prey. Without hesitation, he handed one to the teen with a simple “and that… is for you.”_

_Peter gaped, swallowing hard. “You— Ohh, Mr. Stark…” He gingerly readjusted the device in his hands, as if afraid he might break it from sheer excitement. “You didn’t h-have to…! I—”_

_Tony clapped his free hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Alright, Weird Science, relax. You’re not gonna break it.” Letting go, he took the webshooter back in his vacant hand, tossing it up a bit in the air before catching it as if to prove his point. He couldn’t help but smile at the shocked expression on Peter’s face. “Plus,” he gave both devices to the teen, moving to lean over his desk and examine some blueprints, “I had to take extra precautions.”_

_“Why?” Peter asked a bit too quickly, pausing in his struggle to put away the webshooters before realizing he had left his bag in the car._

_His gaze followed Tony as the man slowly stood up straight, glanced in his direction with a small smile, and then returned to the papers, rolling them up and walking across the room. Stark placed them on another table before bending over to grab something that was on the floor nearby._

_“Now, knowing you, you’re going to ask me about how you could… pay me back, right? But, of course,” he started to make his way back with something in hand, “no matter how many times I tell you it’s fine, you worry about it anyway.” He smiled at the awkward look on the other’s face as he came to a stop in front of him. “But seriously… I_ mean _it this time. I made them for_ you. _I just hope you’ll actually_ use _them— hey, what do you think of these?” He held up a drawstring bag with Iron Man’s helmet on it. “From what I hear,” he went on as he opened it and took the webshooters from Peter, promptly placing them in the bag and closing it up. “Rhodey got in contact with someone who_ actually _thought I intended on producing a whole line of Iron Man memorabilia… which included_ these _.” He handed it over to Peter before heading towards the door, pointing back at him and saying, “In fact, I’m pretty sure I even got a cup somewhere.”_

_Tony held the door open as a very rigid Peter came shuffling over to him, unable to respond beyond a dumbstruck look from the bag to his mentor. Giving a word to Friday to keep the lab on lockdown, he started to follow the young man on his way up the stairs. The walk back to the front of the Avengers Facility was riddled with silence, save for a brief call from Tony to Happy for the latter to bring the car around front, the young hero occasionally glancing over at him in order to say something but finding he couldn’t think of anything. As they reached the front door and Stark was holding it open for the other to pass through, it was then that Peter eventually found his voice again._

_“M-Mr. Stark, I-I can’t thank you enough…!” the kid finally managed when he stepped outside, Tony following suit and walking ahead. “I-I-I can’t believe it,” he stammered, briefly grabbing his head in amazement. “I-I mean, you’re always so— so busy, and I just…”_

_He gestured to his bag, struggling to speak, and Tony couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. When Peter spotted the other waiting patiently by the curb, he jumped a bit and scurried over, his hand outstretched, though he wasn’t certain whether he was intending to shake Tony’s hand or not. Quickly, he recovered, dropping it as he gasped, “Sir,_ thank _you!”_

 _As he came to a halt in front of the older man, he lifted the bag up as if shocked that it was containing his new webshooters. “Oh my god. How— Well, I… I-I_ know _how, but—”_

_He couldn’t help but laugh softly at his own comment. He really was a fanboy, wasn’t he? And, as if on cue, he felt his face begin to get a bit hot, his heart racing with glee. On top of all the other things he’s done for him already, Tony Stark made him something else, just because he could._

_“What did you add…? Wh-when…” Peter let out a breath and furiously brushed some hair out of his eyes and held it back with a hand as he grinned. Once more, he let his arm fall by his side. “…When did you even— I don’t…”_

_As the teen was too focused on his gift, it took him a moment to notice Tony was awkwardly ruffling his hair. But, as soon as he turned to react, the billionaire’s hand was promptly by his side._

_“Wh—” he gaped, his eyes widening._

_“Anyway,” Tony started as if nothing had occurred, his attention now on the road where Happy began to pull up beside them. “If there’s a problem with them, let me know. But I highly doubt that you’ll have any.”_

_The teen slowly began to smile. “Mr. Stark, did you—”_

_“Hm?” Tony turned on his heel to face him for a moment and then started to shake his head, facing the vehicle before them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” He pointed to the car, sniffing as he swiftly wiped his nose with his thumb and tucked his hand in his pocket. “Anyway, Happy’s here, so we should go pretty soon. Restaurant’s gonna close.”_

_Peter laughed. “No, it’s not,” he found himself saying, beaming at the fact that Tony was pretending not to see him attempting to catch his eyes._

_“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. I remember. Theyyy… told me over the phone.”_

_“When? You didn’t call them.”_

_This time Tony turned to him, a knowing look in his eye and the hint of a smirk on his face. “How would you know? Were you there?”_

_“No…! But I don’t think you knew I didn’t have lunch today.”_

_“I’m sorry, did you_ not _say you didn’t?”_

_“You just guessed.” He looked down, a cheeky smile on his own face. “And I never said anything.”_

_“Well, you agreed to come, so…” Peter snorted in amusement at that, patting his now wild hair back down. “And it’d also be very awkward if I was the only one eating anything…”_

_While the two continued to chat, Happy got out and opened the back doors for the both of them, sitting back in the driver’s seat when he was done. Noticing this, Tony began to make his way over to the vehicle. Then suddenly Peter’s face lit up with an idea and, without a second thought, he started to reach his own hand up to Tony’s head while the other’s back was turned._

_Without looking back, Tony jested, “You do that and I’m revoking your webshooting privileges.”_

_For a moment Peter froze, suddenly realizing how indecorously friendly he was being with the man who’s supposed to be his mentor, but the tone of Stark’s words made him forget about that._

_“What?” the kid hummed, immediately tucking his hands under his arms and deliberately averting his eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”_

_Once the billionaire was sitting down, his hand resting on the handle of the open door, he looked up at the kid over the edge of his glasses. “Didn’t I just get done telling you that you suck at lying?” This earned yet another joyous laugh from the young man._

_Of course he was happy._

_He was happy, having the best time of his life, talking about nonsense and spending time with his hero._

-

Only… he _wasn’t_. Not now. He felt like crap.

And his hero wasn’t here to fix that.

His tired eyes passed over the adults and, for a moment, he didn’t register who they were.

Why was he here? He shouldn’t be. What was he thinking? He isn’t an Avenger. They were heroes. He was just a kid.

If anything, the only reason he was in their company in the first place was because he was able to help with taming the Hulk earlier, and even then he was initially told to keep his distance.

Moving his attention back to them, his eyes widened a bit when he noticed their movements looked a bit more tense. It was then that he again tuned into what they were saying.

“Bruce wouldn’t do that,” Natasha was saying.

Stephen shrugged. “…Can you say that for certain? Perhaps Dr. Banner isn’t as stable as he’s led you to believe.”

“No… no. There had to be another reason,” Steve sighed.

“Right,” the doctor grumbles incredulously as he gestured to Peter, “and the kid said that about _Stark_ , and yet he nearly gets killed the other night? I… I’m not buying it.” His eyes flash between them. “Either he’s gone completely insane, or it’s something else.”

“What are you getting at…?” Cap inquired. “That they’re intentionally trying to ruin our reputation? That… doesn’t make sense. We just dealt with the Sokovia Accords… We _lost_ people.” He looked to Natasha, who was frowning at the sorcerer. “We’re on thin ice— Tony wouldn’t do this, knowing full well the public doesn’t exactly think very highly of us right now. And neither would Bruce.”

“If you’re saying we should… ‘handle’ the situation,” Natasha chimed in, “then I really think you should remember that you don’t have the right to make those calls.”

Strange held his hands up a bit. “Wait… Just—”

“That _is_ what you’re saying, right?” She tilted her head and shifted her feet, squinting. “Why exactly are you so eager to help us anyway? I don’t believe you told us.”

“I don’t have a motive,” he said with a dry laugh, as if her insinuation was ridiculous.

“Everyone has a motive,” she countered simply.

“…Look, I’m not…” He huffed, dropping his hands at his sides. “I’m not trying to _start_ anything, I’m just saying… you might already have a problem on your hands.”

Steve frowned. “What makes you say that?”

Stephen shook his head. “Stark isn’t the only one acting out of sorts. This whole ordeal with Dr. Banner just confirmed it…” He looked to each person, his eyes resting on them for a split second. “I’m certain you’re all aware of Thor’s recent… outbursts.”

He received solemn nods from the Avengers in acknowledgement, with Peter looking on in silence, and then continued.

“No one was aware of where he was… and my job is to look into any potential otherworldly… threats—” He quickly cleared his throat. “So… naturally, I confronted him…” He crossed his arms, closing his eyes and scowling. “I had my suspicions that something else was going on because the moment he and I came into contact…”

-

 _He let out a yelp as Thor tightened his grip, his ocean eyes widening as they stared at the other man. “Oh, gods…” Stephen gasped to himself._  
  
-

“…I knew something was wrong…” He shook his head slowly, opening his eyes to stare at the ground. “His judgment was―” He waved his hand in a circular motion. “―clouded, and enigmatic… That much I’m sure of.” He looked to Steve, knitting his brow, his expression hard with resolve. “It’s almost like he was there, but at the same time he wasn’t.”

“Are you sure about this?” the Captain inquired, taking a step forward.

“Positive,” Strange stated.

A moment of silence passed between them before Natasha turned to Steve, her eyes wide. “Maybe someone’s messing with us…”

Something seemed to click in Steve’s mind as a unreadable look crossed his face. “You think…?”

Stephen then furrowed his brow with suspicion. “…What is it?” he asked carefully.

“…You said Thor wasn’t all there, right? Well, Bruce— Bruce was… reacting to things that weren’t there,” started Natasha. “In fact, he thought Steve was attacking me.”

“Whatever this is, I don’t think it’s intentional… at least not on Stark and Banner’s part,” the Captain announced. His attention then went to Peter.

The boy, having gone mostly ignored throughout the entirety of the conversation, was immediately startled at the soldier’s firm gaze. He shifted uncomfortably under it, choosing to downcast his own, focusing on his hands as he lightly clapped one over the other.

Steve eventually peeled his eyes away as he went on, “I know Tony… and he would _never_ view Mr. Parker as a threat, under _any_ circumstances. And Bruce wouldn’t let himself be compromised if he could help it. My guess is someone’s working behind the scenes.”

“Not only that, we didn’t even know anything was wrong until it was too late… Well,” the former spy shrugged, “except Thor. But, we haven’t really had a history of him going off the rails without a good reason… so we just assumed he had one.”

“So you think someone is planning something by using people for… _what_?” No answer was given, but that was to be expected. The doctor trembled with frustration. “Gods,” he growled, “who knows how many people could have been affected by now but they don’t even know it.”

“All the more reason to figure this out as soon as possible,” Cap said with a slight smile, though the expression was not returned as the other had whirled around to ponder.

“So, what can I do to help?” Peter chimed in from where he sat, his eyes falling to each of them. The adults were quiet for a moment.

“No… No, we can handle it from here. Though the offer is appreciated,” the Captain dismissed, offering a small smile. Though it was apparent he was attempting to be as polite about it as possible, the teen frowned at his words regardless and got to his feet.

“Yeah, I know, but―”

Steve straightened up, turning and stepping closer to him. He sighed, nodding once. “I know you’re worried, kid,” he spoke gently, resting a hand tentatively on the teen’s shoulder. “But try not to focus on it for now.” He then gestured with a jerk of his head, beaming softly. “Come on,” he continued, dropping his arm, “you should get home― get some sleep.” He chuckled softly, giving him a once-over. “I think you need it.”

Peter, after a long pause, nodded, the motion making him remember how much his muscles ached.

Yeah, no kidding. He was still a kid after all, no matter how much he swore he wasn’t. Plus he had school…

How was any of this even going to work? This was huge… and definitely a lot more than they could handle. What if something else happened? They… they would need him, right?

 _He_ would still… need him around, right…?

“I can help…” he mumbled meekly, balling up a fist while his eyes were traversing the floor, the familiar voice of Tony Stark booming in his head almost as soon as he uttered those words.

_You can’t._

“Kid?”

Peter blinked several times before looking up into the concerned eyes of Captain America, his own bleary with the threat of tears. It took him a moment to notice Steve was holding something out to him and he accepted it without hesitation. Staring down at it now, he noted the familiar webbed pattern of his mask, rubbing it with a thumb. The soldier offered him a sympathetic smile, uttering a gentle “go on” as he nudged him towards the front door. Though the shove was barely strong enough to topple over a chair, let alone Peter Parker of all people, the teen still stumbled forward a bit before he came to a stop again, glancing back at the Captain as if searching for reassurance.

“…Please. Go get some sleep, okay?” Then, as if he could see several questions forming in Peter’s head, he quickly said, “We’ll call you if we hear anything.”

Although a bit skeptical at those words, something about the genuine expression on the Captain’s face was somewhat reassuring, to say the least… which caused Peter to wrinkle his face up in consternation.

It wasn’t much to go on, but he figured, with the events that have been occurring as of late, that the Avengers might need all the help they can get. Besides, he couldn’t just _not_ lend a helping hand. That’s just… something he doesn’t do.

And if anything could be said about trying to talk to Tony― and figuring out whatever it is he’s going through― having Peter there would be a safe bet… provided that the others be present just in case something happens.

So, with a sigh, he smiled, albeit a bit weaker, and replied with an “okay.”

He should get home soon anyway. May was probably ready to come storming into the Avengers facility to demand what was going on― didn’t matter that she had no idea where it was located. If anyone would be the one to find it, Peter knew she could manage it.

Though it was only about six in the evening, he was exhausted. And the storm beginning to rage outside made him feel even more out of sorts. Part of him felt guilty, since he felt he could do so much more, but his body was telling him otherwise… at least for tonight.

Unbeknownst to them, however, a certain demigod was rolling in with that storm.

\--

Parker Residence, Thursday Morning

\--

“Peter! You’re going to be late for school!”

“Coming, May!” he called after her, mumbling under his breath as he marked off things in his mental checklist. Homework. Bookbag. Jacket.

Grabbing said jacket off of the floor, he slipped in on one arm, trying to sling his bag on at the same time. A small tug came from the corner of his jacket, a soft thud on the floor following it, making him stop his movements. Glancing down, he spotted something on the ground, putting his arm through his other sleeve. Pushing the strap of his bookbag further up his shoulder, he bent down to pick the item on the floor up, scrunching up his face at it as he turned it over between his fingers.

He whispered, “What the…”

“Peter, let’s _go_! Ned’s waiting for you…!”

“Y-y… yeah…!” he responded, unable to tear his eyes away from the object. “Just a minute!” He bit his lip, flipping it over in his hand.

What was an Arc Reactor doing in his pocket?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assumed, based on the unclear lore of the MCU regarding Bruce and the Hulk, that the public are relatively unaware about the two being one and the same. So I thought that Peter would be one of those people. It's a small detail, but yeah. Just thought I'd clear that up.


End file.
